Sons of War
by Traxamania
Summary: Sequel to Strife of Rome and Henosis. Samuel Strife. Samson Akira. Kindred spirits born a generation apart, both seek peace but fate won't allow them! At the behest of Olympus, both must complete labors to earn happiness and peace all while a growing darkness plots against them. Only together will they prevail but can they put aside their differences? Read and find out!
1. Strife meets a couple Hippies

**A/N: Greetings and salutations my beautiful peoples. Welcome… To Sons of War! This here is the sequel to **_**both **_**Henosis-written by myself, and Strife of Rome-written by my amazing friend Thetruehero.**

**As always be sure to read their stuff as well as mine if you want to really understand what's going on in this story. For the sake of understanding the timeline, I'll explain how it all has gone.**

**So Sam's story starts during the original Percy Jackson series and ends just after the defeat of Gaea in the next. During the time between Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo he was getting married and going on a honeymoon with his wife, the illustrious Queen of the Amazons Hylla.**

**Samson's story begins four decades earlier in the late forties and ends with his first 'death' in 1969. He was resurrected by his wife -an oc named Moroiaca, Mori for short- and was active with Annabeth and others during the time Apollo was missing from Olympus and just before the communications blackout happened that we see in Trials of Apollo.**

**Now this story will take place during the Trials of Apollo timeline. There will be some cross-connections and whatnot, but for the most part Samson and Samuel will be busy dealing with their own new problems.**

**I won't spoil it yet, but they'll be busy running some very important errands for the Olympians behind the backs of the TOA plotline. I'm likely to get dates and some small events wrong or have them changed during this story, but I can't really get it all exactly right can I?**

**Anyways, I just want to thank all the reads whom have stuck through with my friend and myself through the hundreds of thousands of words per each story, it's been a hell of a journey and it's not over quite yet.**

**Please, enjoy the chaos!**

* * *

_Strife family Mansion – Showdown currently ongoing_

Samuel's mind is racing with nearly a thousand thoughts… Okay so not _that_ much, but he's still having a minor freak out okay?! How would **you **react if your long assumed dead aunt suddenly showed up at your door looking your age even though she should be sixty-one years old at this point?!

So, shut up and let me-I mean let _Samuel _have his moment!

His finger tightens around the trigger of his rifle and he aims it just a bit more pointedly at his Aunt Mori's head, specifically dead center of it.

The man to the left of his aunt, a person whom _appears _to be his godfather -who should be dead mind you- adjusts himself subtly. Whatever he's doing Samuel doesn't know, but he can swing this gun around and fire in less than a second, so he has no worries about countering whatever they might have planned.

Samuel takes a second to look at the two nerds in front of him. As he said his aunt hasn't changed _at all _since he last remembered her probably over fifteen years ago.

Her hair is still in that signature ponytail of hers, the color of it being so blonde it almost looks white. Her Icelandic heritage means that she is **pale **as can be. Looking at her now she has beauty he could compare with a nymph, not that he likes her that way mind you! She's his aunt you sickos!

Of course, her most prominent features are those emerald eyes that seem to glow in even the faintest of lights. When he was little Samuel thought she just had cool eyes but being a grown demigod, he recognizes which group of godlings possess eyes like that.

Children of Hecate, the goddess of Magic amongst other things.

His aunt was a demigod this whole time! Why didn't his dad tell him?! Why didn't she stay around to PROTECT HIM?!

Samuel's eyes narrow dangerously and the man to her side tenses even more. Samuel trails his eyes to him and takes in the appearance of a man -similar in age to Samuel's- who by all accounts should be dead.

At a glance Samuel finds himself being just a little disgusted.

He's a total fucking hippie! Bell bottom jeans, **literal flowers **growing from his silver jacket, those big ass circular sunglasses people used to wear, and shaggy hair straight from the sixties and seventies.

The man's face is surprisingly… cute? Not like Samuel is attracted to him. Once again SAMUEL IS MARRIED. No, he means cute like how young kids are cute. Round, pointed face. _Very _gentle features despite having a grown man's body.

This man, his god father, is a renowned, yet otherwise almost unknown figure to most people who don't care for demigod history.

Hylla and Kinzie have mentioned things about _The Mystic _to Samuel in the past. How he created incredible artifacts with some serious power, how collectors with serious wealth spend years and millions of dollars trying to track down things he's made without even knowing what they can do.

If Samuel remembers right he knows of only two things made by The Mystic. One is this odd hand mirror Hylla owns that allows her to teleport through mirrors of similar reflective surfaces with it as well as allow her to contact people through them as well.

Kind of like an IM that only works through mirrors but allows one to transport through it as well.

The other is a curious gold ring hiding a weapon Samuel is _very _fond of. The gold band on his finger has the ability to transform into a golden cutlass with some seriously awesome abilities! The cutlass burns blue flame basically identical to Greek Fire that burns people to death quickly, but only if the razor sharp edge isn't what killed them!

Seriously! That cutlass can cut through just about anything! Weaker swords and shields, monster hide and armor, it cuts through all and hasn't even gotten scratched once!

One-time Samuel asked a good blacksmith he knew if he could replicate or even try and improve the sword in any way. His answer surprised him.

"_No can do," He remembers the boy saying, "Whatever you got there is beyond my skill! That blade is legendary, like Excalibur or the Sword of Summer or Percy's sword. What I'm saying is that thing is __**good, **__too good for me to do anything. Keep that thing close man, it's literally the most reliable weapon you'll ever have!"_

Honestly, Samuel has no concept of what makes this sword _legendary, _but if Leo says to keep this thing close then he will.

That leaves him at a crossroads it seems, because two supposedly dead people with connections to his late father are standing right here in the room with Samuel, and he's got them at gunpoint.

Thing is… he really **hates **both of them, and people Samuel hate don't live very long lives. Not when he's after them.

* * *

Okay soooo… this is awkward… Mori is a refined woman, she only drinks Champaign and totally kicks major ass when people other than her cute husband try and pick her up.

'But what about right not?' You may ask, 'What are gonna do now that you suddenly remembered your best friend had a son that you forgot about for fifteen years and also forgot to mention to you husband who's been mourning the death of their best friend and son who's now holding you at gunpoint?'

Do you want to know her answer? Well she's got it for you.

She has no fucking clue what to do!

Curse her stupid messed up memory! This whole situation could've been avoided if she just remembered pretty much anything!

Mori sighs and turns her wet eyes to Samuel.

"Hey… buddy?" Samuel raises an eyebrow, "So, uh… how's it going?"

He doesn't say anything, but the confused expression on his face tells her he _really _has no clue what the fuck is going on.

Samuel shakes his head and keeps his gun aimed perfectly at Mori's head.

"All right let's take a couple steps back here! Here's what's going to happen; you two are going to stand there and answer every goddamn question I have and based on the answers I'll decide whether or not to put bullets in your heads! Push me in anyway and I'll just blast your knees out, Got it?!"

Samson tenses more, Mori gives him a harsh glare, but he ignores it and starts formulating a plan of action.

Samuel takes note of Samson but keeps the gun trailed on Mori. If he does anything Samuel is one hundred percent certain he could fill the asshole full of bullets before he can even take his first step!

"Question number one; Aunt Mori… what the fuck dude?!"

Mori scrunches her eyebrows, "Um… what?"

Samuel's red eyes narrow to dangerous slits, "Don't you 'what' me," He mocks, "You know damn well what I mean! How could you abandon me and my father?! He might still be here if you fucking bothered to give a shit!"

Mori feels tears trickling down her cheeks. Samson told her about… what she did to Max, how her mind-controlled self had ordered his death. She… killed her best friend and orphaned his son without even remembering it had happened.

"Samuel… I am… sorry. I wasn't- I wasn't myself at the time! If I knew what would've happened I never would've left you behind. I'm sorry what happened to Max… Sam, can you- can you forgive me?"

For a passing second Samuel would've maybe said yes, but he's much to angry to at this point.

"Fat fucking chance! You let him die! No way in hell I'd ever forgive you!"

Mori signs and looks down forlorn. She can't blame him; her actions were deplorable and she deserves every punishment Hades himself could think of. But he _**has**_ to know the truth, he has to know what she's done.

"Samuel… when you were young giants attacked you and your father. He died, and you lived, but there's more to it than a random monster attack. Sam… they were sent after you by someone, and unknowingly… that person was me."

Her head snaps back as Samuel's rifle _explodes _a round from the chamber. Time slows for Samson as he watches Mori fly back from the strength of the bullet. He spots flashes of her ichor flying through the air and his mind stops.

Samuel, in slow motion, turns his gun to Samson and fires, but his adversary is already on the move. Time becomes normal and Samuel unleashes a hell fire torrent of bullets at Samson whom runs from cover to cover.

Slowly the house is destroyed from Samuel's powerful bullets, but he doesn't care. These assholes come into his house; piss him off, then say _they _killed his father?!

He doesn't even care if it's real or not, he's pissed off and has more than the legal right to kill them!

"Dance hippie dance! I don't give a fuck who you are, you're gonna die here mother fucker!"

Samson jumps over the kitchen counter and hides behind it. Samuel starts blasting holes into it, but the several layers of thick, quality wood gives Samson a few moments to think up a plan.

_He has me out ranged with the gun, _Samson think, _And chances are he's good with melee, but if I can get him to stop shooting for a second I could rush him by surprise!_

Samson picks a red flower from his jacket and tosses it over the counter by Samuel's feet.

"What the fuck? Are you throwing flowers at me?! Dude, you've got to get better at-"

He's cut off as the flower by his feet literally _explodes _like a grenade, throwing Samuel from his feet with a shout and tossing him into the dining room table. It collapses underneath his weight and velocity, leaving him dazed for a moment.

"Okay… lesson learned, don't fuck with flowers!"

He leans himself upright, but instantly drops down again as a glowing spear of light races over him and smashes through the wall.

Samuel's gun is in his hand again and aimed down the hall, but Samson is too close. He grips the barrel of the gun and pushes it to the side as a bullet shoots from the chamber. Samuel pushes himself off the table and flips his gun around and starts using the stock like a club.

Samson is without a proper weapon, but he has more ways than that to fight someone! The metal bands on the sleeve of his right arm suddenly transforms into a medium sized shield that he uses to parry and block Samuel's makeshift club.

And now, the fight truly begins!

* * *

Hylla was confused when her husband suddenly bolted inside of their new home without explaining anything… AGAIN. She sighs and grabs her bags from the car, Sam was always a weird guy who acts a lot on instinct. She found that part of him endearing and aspirational, his warrior side was very refined and at peak performance, but he often has trouble switching between 'normal' and 'ready to kill a mofo'.

At first she thought one of the homeless around the neighborhood broke in or something, maybe that Magnus kid or something? But when her bloody house turned into a fire fight with what sounded like a bomb going off too, she knew something more than a freaking homeless kid was inside!

Or at the very least Sam is having a _serious _overreaction to said homeless kid.

She quickly rushes inside, almost tripping over a body but her awesome Amazon reactions kept her from falling on her face like some kind of commoner.

She totally didn't scream when the body suddenly sat up right like a zombie or something either.

"Agh fuck!" The body screams, "Damn that smarts!"

She taps at the bloody, golden hole in her head and Hylla feels like throwing up when the nasty wound suddenly closes like it was nothing. Hades, there isn't even a scar left behind or anything!

"Oh gross, ichor is a pain in the ass to get out of clothes! Dammit, I just bought this jacket too!"

Hylla honestly has no words. Ichor is the blood of the gods, or at the very least immortal beings, so that means her _wonderful _husband just assaulted a divine being with his gun and has proceeded to fight something else and destroy the house in the process.

Such a wonderful return from their honeymoon, truly.

"Excuse me, miss?" Mori turns to Hylla and quickly gets back to her feet. She does her best to look presentable and extends a golden, bloody hand out for Hylla.

"Oh, my apologies! My name is Moroaica, but you can call me Mori for short!"

Hylla shakes her bloody hand, "Hylla, pleasure is all mine. Sorry for coming off short like this… but what the _fuck _is going on here?"

"Oh, that? Samuel's just going through some hard emotions right now. I'm his aunt, by the way. He shot me, so my husband must've overreacted or something."

"Wait, Sam has an aunt?"

Mori shrugs, "Not by blood. I… was a good friend of Max's back in the day. I'm sure you've already guessed I'm immortal since like, _I'm not dead _or anything!"

Hylla gives her a weird look, "Noted. So… I've got a few more questions if you don't mind. Sam's going to be busy with this for a while and I'd like to use the time to get to know a bit more about you."

"Sure thing! Ask away dear."

* * *

Samson's shield rattles as the other man unleashes a torrent of fire at it. He's not sure how the gun still has ammo, he must've fired a hundred times by now!

_It must be enchanted, _Samson thinks, _Only way he can shoot that many times without reloading once!_

Samuel keeps the fire going, all of his bullets are stopped by an invisible shield or something, so even if he aims for a leg it's still blocked! Even if he's not getting through the shield it still gives him time to plan out the next move!

The Hippie has no weapon but getting smashed with a shield still hurts like hell and the edge could crack his skull open with a good hit.

If Samuel is going to want the win, then he needs to get in close! He's got a little surprise for the bastard. Let's see how that shield holds up to a good sword!

He shoots a couple blinding shots at the shield and gets Samson to duck behind it. Just as he planned! Samuel quickly lunges over an overturned table and drop kicks the shield. Samson is pushed to his knees, and in a flash the ring on Samuel's finger transforms into a golden cutlass with blue fire burning down the length of the blade.

While he's down, Samuel swings the blade directly onto the shield with a mighty blow. To his surprise, the blade bounces off with only a scratch on the immaculately carved image!

Samuel's arm rings from the strike, "Goddam! What the hell is that shield made off!"

Samson kicks off the ground and puts some distance between himself and his opponent. He looks at the golden cutlass in Samuel's hand and his eyes narrow in displeasure.

"Where'd you get that! That's _my _sword, man!"

"Pfft, it's mine now! Finder's keeper's douchebag! You want it? COME TAKE IT!"

Samuel charges Samson, wielding his gun like a club in one hand and using the sword in the other. He brings the gun's stock down like a club and bashes the shield, sneaking the sword around to try and slash at the chest.

Samson's used to fighting like this, Joseph has done similar moves before, so he uses the momentum from the gun bashing his shield to redirect the energy and smack it into the sword Samuel is trying to sneak into his guard.

The edge of his shield smacks Samuel's hand and he winces as his wrist throbs in pain. Samuel inhales sharply and kicks the shield, only this time Samson manages to keep his footing.

Samuel opens the hand with a sword and it turns back into a ring on his finger. That shield is too good, he needs something with weight if he's gonna do anything to it!

He grabs the barrel of his gun with both and starts smashing the hard stock against the shield. Quickly he pushes Samson back, forcing them to travel from room to room as they block, parry, counter and attack one another with ferocity.

With a quick and powerful push, Samuel kicks Samson through a thin wall and back into the hallway. Hylla and Mori are shaken from their conversation as Samuel comes through the hole and starts wrestling with Samson.

The two struggle, each throwing punches at the others face, when Samson grabs Samuel's arm and swings him off his feet and into the opposite wall.

Before Samuel can recover, Samson tackles him and throws both of them through the wall again.

Hylla and Mori watch in disbelief as the two boys disappear through _another _hole in the wall. Cartoonish sounds of fighting echo from the room. Plates smashing, a cat yelling for some reason? _**More **_gunshots?!

Hylla finds herself at her wits end. Enough of this shit! It's time for her to put her foot down!

She turns to Mori, "Come on, I need your help!"

* * *

Mori enters the room with Hylla and recognizes it from years ago. It's the primary living room where Samson first asked her to marry him. Gods, despite being remodeled it looks so similar!

Well, it _was. _Now the whole room is completely demolished. The couch is overturned, glass is shattered and much of the furniture is toppled over and destroyed. Mori glances at Hylla and sees her silently fuming.

It's not really that visible, in fact to most she looks normal, but Mori can see the little things only a girl notices about girls.

A faint twitch in her hand, the way her lips are pulled tight, a faint fidget in her stance. Yeah, this girl is half a second away from throwing both of the boys into the trash!

"**Mori**…" Uh oh, "Can you separate the children _please_?"

She complies right away. When someone has a tone like _that _then you don't mess around with them!

Mori extends her hands out and a faint aura of blue energy covers her arms. Suddenly the walls explode out as deep blue vines burst from the plaster and attack Samson and Samuel.

The two cry out as the magic vines wrap around them, grabbing arms and legs and pulling them painfully away.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Samuel screams, "OH GOD THIS IS GROSS! DON'T LET THEM VIOLATE ME!"

Mori rolls her eyes and Hylla hides her face in her hand, "For gods' sake Samuel, don't make it weird."

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE IT THEN?!"

"BY NOT BEING WEIRD!"

"HELP ME!"

"HELP YOURSELF!" Hylla closes her eyes and inhales sharply. She opens them again and is much calmer, or at the very least she's controlling her anger.

"Samuel," She looks to him. He's wrapped up vines and is red faced in anger. When he sees her staring at him, he gulps and immediately calms down.

"Samson," Said person gulps and relaxes, though the vines wrapped painfully around his body makes it difficult.

Hylla's black eyes go from one trapped boy to another, immense and endless meaning could be found in them, most of which is the most furious anger one could ever imagine. Even Ares would be impressed by fury Hylla radiated without actually expressing it.

"Boys. **Shut up.**" It wasn't charmspeak, but by the Gods is felt like it, "Now that you're all _wrapped up-"_

Samuel groans from the pun. Samson and Mori snicker just a little.

"Care to explain what you've done to my house?"

"Hey now, technically it's my-"

"Finish that sentence and you're dead!"

Samuel's mouth snaps shut. He has a faint feeling he's going to die regardless. Yeah… so maybe destroying the house during the fight was not a very good idea.

"Now that I have your attention, I think it's time we all had a little talk."


	2. The Boys are Back in Town

**A/N: Hey all, sorry for the long delay. Work was **_**busy **_**for the last week for me, but I'm finally back with some time off again! Once again, make sure you guys have read Strife of Rome and Henosis before this one, it's a sequel after all! Either way, hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Things finally start happening!**

* * *

_Strife Mansion – Post battle – Angry Wife Hylla_

Hylla likes to consider herself as a reasonable individual. Sure, she has a male only slave empire and harem, sure she's violently sexist towards men, sure she's publicly executed people before, not everyone's perfect.

But this? Her completely destroyed home at the hands of her husband and his secret godfather? This has pushed her to her limits and beyond. The two men should count themselves lucky she's strong enough to control her temper otherwise she'd have Mori cleaning up after _two _dead bodies.

Samson and Samuel are enwrapped by mystical vines of some kind, they burst from the walls much to Hylla's chagrin and stopped the fighting between the two men, but the damage was already done.

Two human sized holes in the hallway, bullet holes and destroyed heirlooms, toppled furniture, shattered windows and glass everywhere.

Compared to the place when it was abandoned for years and unofficially housed a bunch of homeless people, it's even worse now.

Hylla inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of her nose, Mori subtly scoots a few feet away from her and whistles a nonchalant tune.

Samuel winces and struggles minutely against the vines, and to his displeasure they don't budge against any amount of his strength.

"Save it," Samuel looks to Samson, "These are magic vines. You need something sharp if you want out."

"Great…" He groans and goes slack. When he looks up he meets the burning eyes of Hylla as she taps a foot impatiently on the hardwood floor.

Everyone is quiet for a moment as Hylla glares at the two men and thinks about what should happen next. If they were her subjects she'd just either execute or exile them, but alas she cannot.

One is her husband, now don't get her wrong she's _totally _going to kick his ass later, but death is a bit much. As for Samson, well according to the evidence he's immortal and has high connections with Olympus.

He'd be a wonderful asset to have later on for the Amazons, so killing him isn't in her best interest either. Maybe she can make him pay for repairs as compensation? It would be fair compensation and would leave the door open for a mutual relationship later.

But first, she needs to put her foot down.

"First things first. Samuel, did you hit first?"

"Hylla-"

She cuts him off, "DID YOU. Hit. First?"

He sighs and nods. Hylla's expression tightens, "Wonderful. I'm sure Hecate will be very pleased when she finds out you shot her favorite daughter."

She looks to Samson, "Because he hit first, I'll be more forgiving. Pay for repairs and we'll call it even, okay?"

"Fair is fair."

"Good. Now, second thing. Both of you, what do you _actually _know about the other?"

Samuel scoffs, "That they got my dad killed and left me alone to die."

"Yeah… I still don't actually know who you are," Samson replies, "As far as I know you're just a Child of Eris."

Hylla rolls her eyes, "Of course men's first reaction is violence."

The two Sam's complain but she ignores them, "Samuel, meet your godfather. Samson Akira and newly born immortal. Samson… meet Max's son, Samuel Strife and your godson."

Everything goes quiet, so much so that you could hear the faint dripping of water from the broken sink.

Samuel glances at Samson with a scowl but he doesn't notice it. The sorcerer is too caught up in his own thoughts about the revelation to notice the anger in his godson.

"Despite the… incident, I want the two of you to _at least _be able to talk to one another."

"But babe!" Samuel argues, "These _fuckers _got my dad killed! Like hell I'm gonna talk to them without putting a bullet in their heads!"

Hylla sighs, "Sam, when you were a werewolf did I ever blame you for your actions? Did I ever think of the beast as _you _exactly?"

"Of course not! That thing wasn't me, it was just a monster based off of me!"

"If it was the same for her, what then?"

He goes quiet.

"She was brainwashed, she had no clue what was going on or what she was even doing. I know, she told me the whole story."

He's still silent.

"I'm not asking you to be friends, I'm asking you to be reasonable and not make enemies of immortals. We have a life here Samuel, all this violence, making all these enemies, is that what you'd want to raise a child in? It's time to settle down, Sam, we have it good, don't destroy everything we've worked so hard to get for petty revenge."

Samuel closes his eyes and absorbs her words. He doesn't have to like them, but he's reasonable enough not to straight out kill them… for now. Who knows what the future holds?

A Child of Eris is a child of vengeance, wrath is his fatal flaw and always will be, but he's grown since he first found out about his heritage. If his beautiful wife wants him to cool down, then he will.

"…Fine, I'll play nice. Just don't expect me to like them!"

Hylla nods, "Understandable. Now that that's settled, Mori? Will you drop them?"

She snaps her fingers and the vines dissipate into thin air. The two Sam's drop to the ground and slowly rise to their full heights.

The air is tense as they turn to one another. Despite being nearly a head shorter than Samuel both seem to stand as equals, each sizing the other up and getting a feel for one another.

Samuel gazes into Samsons eyes. A deep feeling of emotion can be seen in it, sorrow, anger, remorse. All these emotions run through Samson an he extends a hand out for his godson.

Nothing happens for a moment, Hylla worries he'll try and break his wrist or something but her worries were unfounded. Samuel takes the hand and meets the iron grip of Samson with his own impressive strength.

"To new beginnings?"

Samuel tightens his grip and his blood red eyes harden, "Don't count yourself lucky."

* * *

Magic is a very handy skill. With it you can do just about anything you can imagine should you possess the mana to power it and the skill to make it a reality.

With but a thought and a wave of her hand, the damage dealt to the house slowly repairs itself, almost like time was reversing around everyone.

'Repair' is a simple spell, most novice mages learn it, but doing it on a scale like this belongs to only some of the strongest sorcerers from history. Calypso, Circe, Morgana, people like that.

Call her vain, but Mori feels a bit of pride being able to compare herself to witches like them.

The group around her gazes in wonderment as shards of glass neatly fly back in place like they were never broken, bullet holes mend themselves and ripped and torn furniture moves by itself and returns to its previous location looking brand new.

In only a matter of minutes, the damage was reversed completely. Samuel whistles in appreciation and Hylla nods impressed.

Being the gentleman that he is, Samson passes Hylla a stack of bills from his enchanted wallet. She doesn't need it, she's filthy rich already but the thought is what counts really. She pockets it and turns to her guests.

"Now that we've worked everything out… how do you feel about dinner?"

Samuel's head snaps to her and she meets his glare with a fierce one of her own. They don't say anything but an argument seems to pass between them. He scowls and goes to a phone hanging on the wall and dials a number.

"How about Moscato's? Best pizza in town by far, I got it all the time when I was young and they're still in business now."

"No shit sherlock," Samuel snaps, "I had it all the time with… my dad."

The two boys are silent, but Hylla speaks up and breaks the awkwardness, "Make sure to get a salad, dear. We need _something _green if we're going to eat all that grease."

Samson sits down on the couch across from Hylla and smiles fondly, "I love that place! Me and Tony go back a long ways! Did you know he was a legacy from Demeter? That's why he always had fresh ingredients, man just grew them fresh each night when everyone was gone. I'll miss the old bastard… heart disease got em', guess all that pizza had to catch up eventually."

Hylla just nods and relaxes against the fine leather couch. She's not really sure how to respond… it's rather awkward to suddenly learn the whole history of a Pizza shop she's never even been to before.

"That… sure is interesting!"

Mori smacks his arm and hisses in his ear, "Dude, stop! You're being too friendly!"

"What? How can I be _too _friendly? We all live on this green earth, man, we're all friends here!"

Hylla groans silenty and Mori rolls her eyes, "I _know _that, but the sixties was a long time ago! These kids do things different now! At least try and act regular."

Samson throws his hands in the air, "I don't get this world anymore! I was just making friendly conversation about a good pizza shop!"

"Is it Moscato's?"

Everyone brandishes their weapons in the blink of an eye and points them at a strange, dark haired man in a track outfit with a weird postman's hat with wings.

The stranger holds his hands out in a peace motion, "Whoa-whoa! Put the pointy things away! I'm just here to pass a message along!"

His blue eyes shift between all of his assaulters with a fast pace, each second long glance analyzing them and finding hundreds of ways to incapacitate them with only minor struggle.

Samson squints at the stranger who somehow appeared in the mansion without anyone knowing.

"… Lord Hermes?"

The Olympian waves him nonchalantly, "Enough of that! You're a god too, Hermes is just fine! Not for the rest of you though, to ya'll I'm still _Lord _Hermes!"

Everyone shrugs and puts their weapons away. Hermes puts his hands down and fishes into a satchel bag and pulls out a golden letter with beautifully engraved letters.

He hands the letter to Samson and does a two-finger salute, "Personal delivery. Very important! Don't dally of he'll get mad, don't want a repeat of Apollo to happen to you do ya' Go ahead and sign this and I'll be on my way."

He hands Samson a clipboard and snatches it away the seconds he finishes his signature. Hermes salutes one last time and vanishes in a blast of light.

Samson scratches his head and looks at the crowd. They all plead at him with their eyes an he quickly takes his dagger and cuts the fine parchment open.

He takes a piece of fine note paper from the envelope and holds it up to read.

"Dearest Samson Akira. Samuel Strife too I guess… You are hereby summoned to stand before the grand council of Olympus immediately upon opening this letter. Hurry post haste, lest the card explodes with a radius of five-hundred meters."

Samson immediately throws it to the floor and jumps on it, hoping his enchanted jacket might absorb the blast enough to save everyone!

…Only nothing happens. He waits for a minute longer and still nothing happens.

He stands back up and finishes reading the letter.

"Just joking. Now hurry up and get your asses here!"

Samuel groans, "Great. Just great!"

Hylla pats his shoulder, "You'll be fine. Maybe you can figure out what's been going on? After all, no one's heard anything from them practically since Gaea was defeated!"

"Well," Samson takes an elaborately designed hand mirror from his interior jacket pocket, "Shall we be off? It doesn't sound like they're in the mood to wait. The sooner the better I say!"

Samuel goes white when he recognizes the mirror, "…Oh no… not again!"

* * *

The world finally stops spinning and Samuel staggers for a few moments before leaning against the wall. He dry heaves a few times while Samson has his hands in his pocket and idly waits for Samuel to settle.

"So… First time flyer?"

Samuels shows him his middle finger, "Not the first time! Hylla's used it a few times before to save my ass… Gods it's just as awful as I remember!"

"Yeah the first couple times are rough. Travel via looking glass isn't for everyone."

He heaves one last time and takes in his surroundings. All around cars fight through traffic, towers of glass and metal reach high in the sky and a lingering scent of pollution hovers over the air.

"Ah, New York City. A symbol of wealth and human greed. Fuck this place!"

Samson puts a friendly arm around Samuel's shoulders, "That I can agree with. Ready to head out, friend?"

Samuel elbows his ribs and throws his arm off, "I'm not your _friend _asshole! Let's just get this shit over with!"

The entrance to the empire state building was thankfully only a block or so away from where Samson teleported them.

A curious little item, Samson's hand mirror allows him to teleport small numbers of people through mirrors or other reflective surfaces. Despite the convenience, many who've acquired the limited number of copies find the experience unpleasant and discombobulating.

To them, driving and flying is a more comfortable alternative then the hazardous means of teleportation. Rumor has it some have gone missing when they use the mirror, never to be seen again. Others simply just lose a limp or two.

Either way, Samuel hates the damn thing and by extension hates their creator even more. Ironically the creator happens to be the out of touch hippie walking and complaining about the city with him.

They head inside the Empire State building and call an elevator to take them up to the six-hundredth floor. Samuel almost killed the guard when he did his whole 'ignorant mortal' shtick, but Samson managed to save him from that horrible fate.

The ride up is quiet, Samson not sure what to say and Samuel too pissed off to make conversation despite the long and boring ride.

A couple minutes later and the door dings open. Olympus, as always, is as grand and beautiful as what one could imagine and beyond. Quite literally too. Magic and mysticism permeates the grand mountain and warps human perception.

Look at something long enough and you'd get a headache from your mind trying to comprehend the sheer power that simply exists around the mountain.

Samson crosses his arms and huffs. Samuel gives him a weird look, "What's with you?"

"Nothing serious I guess… I'm still just a little salty since they won't let me get a house up here! I'm stuck in some Ogygia type forest with a dozen blood thirsty nymphs, two insane lamia witches, and a Titaness! Gods having someplace to go that's just Mori and I would be great…"

"…Good luck with that cause' you sure as shit not gonna be sticking around my house!"

Samuel sighs, "Let's just go talk with the council and get this over with."

* * *

About an hour and a half's hike later the two Sam's finally arrive in the immaculate and towering throne room of Olympus.

All around them the twelve primary Olympians stand in their full towering heights, each scowling with varying degrees. Zeus stands and his voice booms across the grand room, much to the annoyance of his fellow council members.

"YOU DARE MAKE THE GRAND COUNCIL WAIT?! YOU WERE SUMMONED HOURS AGO AND ONLY NOW ARRIVE?!"

Everyone, even the other gods, hold their ears in pain from the sheer volume of Zeus. Hera whacks his arm with a surprisingly hard peacock feather and scowls at him.

"Inside voice, remember?! This place echoes too much!"

"Yeah dude, keep it down!"

"I agree with them, father, it is rather unpleasant to have to bear the might of your voice in this room."

The rest of the council murmurs their agreements and Zeus cups his face with his hand, "…Just tell us why you were so late!"

Samuel puts his hands on his hips and glares at Zeus, "Well, for starters this place is like five miles away from the elevator! Second, there's no transit here at all! Could it kill ya' to hire a golf cart driver or something to take people here quicker?"

Hephaestus throws his hands in the air, "Thank you! I've been telling him we need transit here for centuries!"

Samuel nods at the forge god. He doesn't think much of most of the gods, but Hephaestus is on his list or deities he's cool with. After all, the god gave him a new eye after he lost it the first-time years ago.

Zeus waves his hand in dismissal, "SHUT UP! Enough with your stupid inventions! I miss the good old days when mankind stayed on the ground and rode donkeys around. Now they have their fancy aero-planes and automobiles!"

Ares coughs into his fist, "Old man!"

Either Zeus didn't here him or chose to ignore him. Either way the war god wasn't smited instantly as his father chose to continue his train of thought.

"If they wanted to get here quicker then they should've just teleported! The boy is a god!"

Samuel looks at Samson, "Yeah… I don't think so. No way in Hades this kid's a god!"

Samson throws his hands out to his sides, "Right?! Seriously, is it actually too much to ask for one of you guys to _train _me?! Literally nothing about me has changed from a couple months ago!"

"You must be the one to decide your own future! You have a domain, only you can learn what that means and what your powers are! But enough about you and more about us!"

Athena rolls her eyes. When he says that, he actually means, _Shut up and pay attention to me!_ Drama queen.

"Samuel Strife… Samson Akira… you stand before the Grand Council of Olympus to pay reparations for your actions!"

"What!" Samuel and Samson scream, "I've totally made up for everything! I destroyed a Giant army during the war with Gaea for you a-holes! I went through so much crap, There's no way I owe any of you squat!"

"Did you forget everything I've done too?! I rallied the Legion, destroyed a powerful enemy and liberated an old ally!"

The council murmurs but Zeus stays stubborn, "Both of you have brought great honor to Olympus, but both of you have violated the vary laws of nature themselves! Samuel, you defied fate and returned to life from death! Samson, you stole the divine energy of my daughter-your mother, Athena and made yourself immortal with it!  
As payment due both of you shall henceforth work for the grand council! When the time comes one of our members shall fetch one or both of you for a labor you _must _complete! You may leave now and prepare yourselves, I'm sure each and every one of us will have _interesting _things planned for the both of you!"

Zeus smashes his lightning bolt against the tile and the two Sam's scream as blinding light consumes them. When it vanishes they find themselves in an empty parking lot, the midday sun for when they arrived at Olympus has been mysteriously replaced with the full moon.

"What the? How did time just jump forward like that?! It must be like midnight by now!"

Samuel doesn't answer and instead kicks a loose chunk of sidewalk into an old stone building.

"Who gives a FUCK! About that!" He walks over to an old, rusted and abandoned car and starts smashing his heavy boot into the metal, each kick making a larger and larger dent.

"STUPID FUCKING GODS!" The metal croaks, "STUPID FUCKING HIPPIE!" It starts breaking, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

The door finally breaks, the metal literally crumbling to pieces and staining Samuel's duster red with rust particles.

Samson's patience finally snaps, "This is my fault? THIS IS MY FAULT?! Samuel, I don't even know what's going on anymore! Apollo is gone, the gods don't say a peep and suddenly we're forced to do their bidding?! HOW AM I RESPONSIBLE?!"

Samuel pushes him away and pulls his rifle from the strap on his back in a fraction of a second, aiming directly for Samson's heart.

"YOU'RE ALL THE SAME! YOU JUST SHOW UP WHENEVER AND EXPECT ME TO DROP EVERYTHING AND WORSHIP THE GROUND AT YOUR FEET! NEWS FLASH: I DON'T CARE! YOU'RE JUST LIKE THEM! EXPECTING FORGIVENESS WHEN YOU DON'T DESERVE IT! I'VE HAD IT! HYLLA BE DAMNED I'M GONNA BLOW YOUR FUCKIN' BRAINS OUT RIGHT HERE AND NOW YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Slow clapping suddenly echoes around them. The silent, empty streets making it all the more haunting as a gangly voice giggles from some hidden shadow.

"Well, well, looks like we only have to do _half _the work! This is almost funny if it wasn't _pathetic!"_

Seventeen figures dressed in black, monk like robes with long Estoc swords made of shiny silver metal emerge from the shadows and surround them in a big circle. Each of their faces is covered by hoods, leaving only their chins lit up by the dim parking lot lights.

"We're on a bit of a time limit here… you boys feel like laying down so we can make it quick? How I hate when they struggle, makes it all the more difficult to hide the evidence later!"

Samson stands back up and reaches into his pocket, taking out a small cylinder made of celestial bronze.

"Samuel… I think we should postpone our grievances."

"No shit!" He hisses, "I don't want to die before I can kill you!"

Samson rolls his eyes, "Whatever you say. You take the guys in the front, I take them in the back?"

Samuel gives him a feral, maniacal grin, "Dude… that's pretty gay!"


	3. The Olympian Slave Forces

**A/N: Here it is folks, Chapter 3! This guy should be fun, we get the first fight scene of the story as well as the first hint to something more than what the Olympians presented going on. Now I'm sure you guys have read the genre, but this is going to be at least partly a mystery story. So, put on your thinking caps, cause everything isn't going to be answered right away or even anytime soon!**

* * *

_Abandoned Parking lot – Mid-assassination attempt – Samuel&Samson_

To the would-be assassin's credit, they're actually better than Samuel was expecting. Most murders who -you know- _announce _theatrically that they're going kill you are actually pretty weak, so call Samuel an idiot when most of them actually _dodged _his bullets!

Now don't go saying Samuel is losing his edge, he still got five regardless, but their movement and speed is _inhuman. _Hell, he'd say they're probably quicker than the Hunters, at least in short bursts.

What makes his skin crawl is just how fast and agile they are. Not only were their reactions quick enough to dodge bullets from Samuel, a master marksman, but they also covered a distance of thirty feet quite literally in a blink of an eye!

Samuel curses and straps his gun to his back, instead using the ring-sword as it's a better weapon in such close quarters.

The fastest attacker launches a lightning quick thrust of his sword like a rapier straight for Samuel's head. He uses the heavier cutlass to knock the lighter sword away and kick the man right in his knee!

He might've used too much strength since with a sickening _pop _the leg bends completely the opposite way. Samuel severs the man's head mid scream and unfortunately uses the body as a makeshift meat shield.

His literal human shield was quite useless, the long Estoc swords pierce easily through the entire body and almost skewer Samuel multiple times.

To his surprise he didn't have to dispose of the body. Black, honey like liquid melts from the body and absorbs into the concrete like water in dirt, leaving flowing black robes behind.

Samuel rips the cloth from his sword and throws it at the face of another attacker. It get stuck around his face, and Samuel uses the momentary distraction to bring his sword down in an arc and bisect the body.

Sooner or later the assassins had to get smart. Four gang up on Samuel and start forcing him to dodge, their consistent speed and accuracy keeps him on the defensive as the try and push him into another assassin they have waiting to stab him in the back!

The stealthy assassin comes around Samuel's blindside and goes for a heart stab, only for the world to suddenly spin and collide with his face.

Samuel kicks the idiot's severed head away and ducks low to the ground underneath a series of stabs from his attackers. Quickly he slices his sword horizontally and cuts their ankles free from the rest of their bodies.

The four men collapse to the ground, putrid red blood squirting from their stumps and screaming bloody murder for the whole world to hear. Samuel quickly ends their suffering, wouldn't want to disturb the mortals after all.

He spins around a charging assassin, cutting along his ribs as he does and puts some distance between himself and the remaining nine attackers. He switches out for his gun to lay down some covering fire when something suddenly strikes his hand.

Samuel hisses and looks at his stabilizing hand. A long cut leaking fresh blood trickles down his arm and up the sleeve of his arm. He looks left and dodges as a throwing knife whizzes past his face.

Another assassin crosses his arms, dozens of thin knives locked in between his fingers as he leers at Samuel. He curses at his wounded hand. Dammit! He can't fire worth shit with his hand like this!

The knife thrower starts lobbing dozens of knives at Samuel like there's no tomorrow. To the murder's displeasure Samuel bats each one away with the stock of his gun. He reaches into his robes and grabs a small dark jar and prepares to launch it.

Suddenly the jar explodes into green flames that fall directly onto the man. He screams in frenzy as freshly brewed Greek fire consumes his entire body and eats his flesh down to the bone in only a couple seconds.

Samuel looks over and sees Samson extending a hand out at the burning green hole in the ground.

"Telekinesis, it's pretty useful."

"Don't go getting confident now! It doesn't look good on you."

Samson rolls his eyes and goes back to dodging his opponents. They're good fighters, he'll give them that, but Samson is better. He knows this because he was specifically trained to fight human opponents.

He's faced tougher.

The cylinder in his hand extends and deflects an Estoc blow. He twirls it around and smacks the man in the face. More come around his flanks and launch a series of rapid stabs. Samson blocks and parries, smacking the assassin's wrists and doing just enough damage to convince them to back off.

He gains a little distance from them and holds the staff out. He grins at the assassins and twists his grip on the staff. Quickly the metals shifts, becoming long and more ornate. A cross guard forms at the tip of the spear and a long, sword-sized silver spear point emerges from the guard.

Everyone in the area halts as they feel the aura of power emanating from the strange looking spear. The surviving leader of the attacker's pales as he recognizes the weapon from his studies.

The Dragonslayer Spear, an ancient weapon imbued with the electricity of a cyclops and possesses the strength to slay dragons. The weapon of heroes and the bane of all evil in the world.

Samson twirls the weapon around himself and points it at the enemies. Yellow lightning faintly crackles along the length of the spear but has no effect on Samson as he holds it.

"You guys were all talk only a couple minutes ago. What happened to that confidence? You said you wanted to make it quick after all. So, quit cowering and come and show me what you a-holes can do!"

The leader growls and points his specially elaborate Estoc at Samson.

"KILL HIM!"

* * *

For the second time today Samuel finds himself being surprised by another's fighting capability. Samson made quick work of the remaining assassins while Samuel took the time to bandage his hand.

He nimbly dodged, parried and countered the leftover assassins with surprising grace and ferocity.

The first assassin to charge him was the first to die. His spear is a good seven feet, and his thrust was accurate and fast. The first man died with a stab to his heart. His body quickly melted into black goo that was absorbed into the dirt and his eight remaining comrades gathered in pairs of two and advanced on Samson.

Despite the relative weakness of spears in short range combat, Samson made up for it with fancy maneuvers and disarming techniques that put the assassins more on the defensive than Samson.

Long, sweeping swipes that were fast as lightning, upwards thrusts that force an attacker to block rather than strike, Samuel recognizes some of the moves, but he can't quite remember who he's seen fight like that.

An assassin goes to gore Samson through his heart when suddenly Samson bashes the weapon away with the pole of his spear and twirl around and follows up by stabbing the man straight through the middle and lifting him up in the air.

That's it! Now Samuel recognizes why those moves look so familiar! That's _a lot _like how Thalia fought with him back when Orion was around!

Samson throws the body and hits another assassin with it, knocking them both to the ground. Before they can recover he pierces both of their heads with his spear and rips it free, aiming it for the last remaining five.

To his relief they falter. The leader with gold trimmed robes pauses and considers his next plan of action. Another one of his brothers dies when he _foolishly _tried to avenge their comrades, this time he was stabbed in the face and then precisely had his head lobbed off.

Yup, this mission was a failure, time to go! Their glorious _father _had warned them these two were strong, but the leader miscalculated _how strong. _They may have failed now… but he's seen what they're capable of.

Next time he can plan accordingly. **The Hands of the Deep will always succeed in time.**

The remaining four assassin turn into shadows and vanish into the earth. Samson's spear collapses back into a small cylinder and he pockets it. He looks over the battlefield, clothes and weapons from the dead assassins are sprinkled everywhere, but their bodies are gone.

Samson has spent literal years pooling over ancient texts and accounts from demigods of the past. To his knowledge, none of them have ever encountered something like this before.

There's a good chance this is something new, and that means it's something _extra_ _dangerous._

Samuel comes around his side and puts his hands on his hips, glancing out across the parking lot.

"So… any idea who these guys are?"

Samson looks up at the building across from them and makes out the faint silhouette of a bird. It hoots once or twice and flies away into the night sky.

"…No idea, but something seems fishy here."

Samuel looks at him, "How so? People try to kill me all the time. This is probably just some asshole trying to get revenge from the war."

Samson gives him an odd look, "And that doesn't worry you?"

"Not in the least bit! My mansion is the third most secure property in the world, not to mention any asshole that gets in my way will have his head blown off!"

"Right," Samson says sarcastically, "What I mean is that this was mighty convenient. We just happen to get ambushed literally seconds after we get kicked off of Olympus. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"…Holy shit… THEY FUCKING BETRAYED US!" Samuel screams, "OH I ALWAYS _KNEW _THEY'D TRY AND KILL ME ONE DAY!"

Samson slaps the back of his head and knocks him out of his growing rage, "No you fucking ding-dong! We weren't betrayed, they would've just killed us if they wanted to back on Olympus! They sent us here because we were _bait._"

Samuel's eyes go wide, "Oh fuck me… this is more complicated then we realize?"

Samson nods.

"…**FUCK!**"

* * *

Hylla holds a trashcan up for Samuel as he heaves a few times into it. Samson and Mori roll their eyes and sit down on the couch. He pockets his mirror and sets out a few of the items he recovered from the remains of their attackers.

A silver Estoc sword with fine engravings, the robes of one of the assassins, and a small parchment paper written in some language of shapes that seems to be constantly flowing and changing form.

Samuel walks over to the couch, Hylla helping him stabilize, and sits down and looks at the items on display.

"Okay, so we've got some news to share!"

Hylla picks up on the faux bemusement in his tone. Having known him for years she can pick up on the subtle things he does, right now he's angry, _very _angry. So much so that he's gone passed screaming and dived right into sarcasm.

"You've been gone for almost ten hours, we were starting to get worried! Then suddenly you show back up with a bunch of random crap and blood all over yourselves! Yeah, I think you've got some news to share, mister!"

Samuel winces, Hylla's hit sarcasm levels of anger.

"Look… despite what it would seem, this was _not _my fault!"

"BULLSHIT!"

"It wasn't, I swear! The gods dropped us off, we got jumped by some psycho monks and Samson teleported us straight here!"

Hylla's furious orbs snap to Samson who jumps from the sudden ferocity he sees in them.

"Is that _all _that happened?!"

Samson notes that Samuel left out the teensy little detail where Samuel tried to kill him before they got attacked. All logic says he should tell Hylla, she seems to be the only one that can control or at least temper his violent outbursts. So, should he tattle on his godson?

"Yup, that's what happened rounded down give or take. The Olympians are pissed we did some 'illegal' stuff so now we're forced into doing work for them."

Hylla groans and leans back in the couch. Mori sighs softly and picks up the strange, demonic looking parchment paper.

"We're supposed to do a task for each one," Samuel says, "And apparently they're just gonna show up when the hell ever and sweep us off to go do whatever bullshit crap they need someone else to do for their lazy asses!"

"Language," Hylla mumbles absentmindedly, "And yes, that is bullshit. Then who were these… _monks _that attacked you guys? I've never heard of anyone Greek or Roman using Christian monk robes and French swords before."

Samson shrugs, "Not the foggiest clue. These guys are completely brand-new to me, and I'm not even sure if they were monsters or humans yet!"

Mori looks away from the paper at him, "What do you mean?"

"They walked, talked, and fought like humans, but…"

"They melted," Samuel finishes, "Like, their bodies turned into black goo or something and melted into the ground. Fuckin' nasty to watch."

Mori scrunches her eyebrows together, "That's some… seriously dark magic. Like _worse _then witchcraft dark magic."

"A horcrux?"

"What?"

"Do they have horcuxes?"

"This isn't Parry effin' Hotter you dick! Soul Transfusion is by its' nature an evil art, those men are about as good as monsters if they've done something like that! What you fought was merely a projection, a dark glob of sorcery that can mimic a body while their real ones are stored somewhere else, likely as a mummy or something. You can't kill them until you find their real bodies, it's the only way to destroy them permanently."

"Great, then we have some evil mystery assholes with a bullshit immortality cheat to deal with! Gods dammit I just wanted to enjoy retirement!"

Hylla puts a comforting hand on Samuel's shoulder, "We'll get there eventually. For now let's just figure out what we're going to do next. Mori, did that weird… _paper _tell you anything?"

She shakes her head, "Whatever this language is I can't read it. My scrying magic only tells me that it's written in some language _older _than magic. My best guess is that this is the language of the first generation of Titans before my mother was born. That's likely why my powers can't figure it out, Hecate was born around the time of the Olympians and likely saw the downfall of the Titans. She's closer to the age of the Gods then she was the age of the Titans."

"Then likely we're dealing with some fanatics obsessed with the Titans. Dammit Luke, why'd you have to go and cause all of this trouble?!"

"Luke? Who's that?"

Samuel just waves Samson off, "Nobody, at least… not anymore. Look, let's get back to the problem at hand! When the gods dropped us off we were immediately ambushed. Like, within a few seconds! Samson thinks we were sent to that place exactly as bait. What I want to know is why!?"

Hylla cups her chin in thought, "I think… they wanted to confirm if this group existed at all, and the two of you were the perfect test subjects."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it. Even if both of you have clearly proven yourselves free from owing them anything you've still done some pretty serious things. Samson became immortal without their consent and Sam here defied the Fates and came back to life. It's an easy stretch for them to say you owe them something and use you two as pawns to act against this mystery cult. While you two are busy doing tasks for them keep a sharp eye out. I suspect each task is tied in some way with the cult."

Samuel leans his head against Hylla's shoulder and groans dramatically.

"Hylla… I don't wanna!"

She pats his head pathetically, "Oh don't be such a big baby! You're clearly stronger then them so this should be a walk park."

"Don't jinx it, man, I'm involved with this garbage too!"

She rolls her eyes and looks across the table at Samson and Mori, "Do you two have a place nearby to stay?"

Samuel immediately snaps up in his seat, "Hylla, no! No way in hell I'm letting them stay here!"

Hylla sideeyes him with a look of exhaustion, "Samuel, _both _of you are doing these tasks. It's logical that you're in the same house as your partner."

She looks to the duo across the couch, "Where do you live right now?"

Mori shrugs, "In a van, technically."

Hylla raises an eyebrow and looks at Samuel. He pauses for a moment and throws his hands in the air.

"FINE! They can stay here!"

He gets off the couch, grumbling about leeches and heads to one of the guest rooms to prepare it for Samson and Mori.

"Is he always a grouch like that?" Mori asks. Hylla nods sadly, "Yup. He's a bit like an angry chihuahua. Always barking at bigger dogs and making things worse for himself when they snap back. At least he has a gun, makes it a hell of a lot easier to deal with the backlash we get when he pisses off a god… _again!_"

"Hey, thanks for letting us stay here for the time being. It's going to be easier for Samuel and I to handle this crap together then separate."

"No problem, just be careful around him," She peeks to make sure Samuel isn't nearby and leans forward to whisper, "Mentally he isn't fully sound. You've seen how easy it is for him to pull the trigger on someone else. I'm worried he's going to get himself killed, he's rash and his temper often gets the better of him. You're going to have your work cut out for you if you want to try and form a bond with him, let alone work side by side!"

Samson sighs and looks at the ceiling, "Gods… I don't even know if I want to at this point! I just… we're _too _different, you know? I doubt we'll be able to work this out…"

Everyone goes quiet. Mori grabs his hand reassuringly and smiles at him. Despite all of the tragedy and heartbreak that's followed Samson his whole life, she's been the one who's been there for him the entire time. The one who _survived_.

Meanwhile, around the corner, Samuel looks up at the ceiling and ponders on Hylla's words. Yes, he's rash. Yes, he's psychopathic, but surely that's okay, right? She loves him, that much is certain, but does she really appreciate all of his more… _negative _quirks?

Not long ago she hypothetically mentioned them raising a child in this environment, and now that he thinks about it… would a child be _okay _if he fathered them?

…The answer scares him, because he's not so sure anymore.

* * *

The night came and passed for everyone quickly. The whole ordeal with Samson and Samuel's drafting into the Olympian Slave Forces was really tiring, especially considering they returned home after midnight.

A good night's rest and Samuel wakes up before everyone else with a smile on his face. Morning were always pleasant at his childhood home when… his father was still around.

The local pheasants from the nearby sanctuary would squawk in the early mornings, mixing in with the songs of the other birds and forming beautiful music straight from nature.

It was simple, but he found enjoyment in reminiscing about the things he liked when he was half the age he is now.

He's shaken from his thoughts as something loud squawks right in his ear. He looks at the open window and sees a plump black and white bird staring at him. A magpie, if he guesses right. Samuel tries to shoo it away, but it flies over his head and into the living room.

"Hey! Get out of here you fucking dick!"

The bird squawks in response and Samuel grumbles and picks up a spike baseball bat he hid in the kitchen pantry and chases after his feathery foe.

He runs into the living room and pauses as he sees the bird perched atop the shoulder of a plump man he _never _wanted to run into alone again! The scars on his neck burn faintly at the memory of when he earned them, and Samuel unconsciously rubs the markings.

"Hello there, Simon, nice to see you again," Dionysus smiles widely and swirls around a glass of wine in his free hand, "Ready for hell?"


	4. Grapes the Mascot

**A/N: As I'm sure many of you know, Samuel has some issues with Dionysus. Well… obviously He was the first god to volunteer to boss the Sam's around! This is gonna be a little smaller as a chapter, hope that's okay. Next one we'll get more into the interesting aspect of this story. For now it's setting up for the climax of this part. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

_Strife Mansion – Currently freaking the fuck out – Samuel Strife_

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"Yes!"

Samuel points his bat at Dionysus, "No! I refuse! Give me someone else! Hades, I'd rather deal with _Hera _than you right now!"

Dionysus raises a single challenging eyebrow. Samuel falters in his resolve, "…Okay maybe not her, but still! It's the thought that counts!"

The wine god takes a sip from his cup and waves a hand, "Bah! I was the winner so I get to go first!"

"Winner? The hell are you talking about?"

He shrugs, "We drew straws."

Samuel looks at him like he grew a second head, "The all powerful Olympians… drew straws?"

"It's fair. Hestia's idea, actually. She likes to keep things simple, less stress that way."

The Son of Eris cups a hand over his forehead and whispers to himself, "Oh my god-"

"You called?"

"SHUT UP!"

Dionysus chuckles and grins madly, amused by his antics. Not Samuel's, Dionysus is the funniest person Dionysus knows.

"Fuckin whatever… what do you want?"

"Settle down there, boy, we wouldn't want to leave anyone out?" Dionysus snaps his fingers and three figures appear hovering in mid-air. Hylla, Samson and Mori all appear, still laying down as though they were on an invisible bed for a second before falling down to the ground hard.

"Gah!"

"Fuck!"

"Shit, I think I hit my head!"

"Babies…" Dionysus mumbles, taking a sip of his wine.

The trio stands slowly, rubbing their eyes and blinking rapidly as they wake. Samuel rolls his eyes and leans on the bat, leering at the wine god who lovingly sips his wine.

"Everyone's here now, so what the fuck do you want?!"

Dionysus's eyes flash dangerously. Samuel feels a brief pressure tightening around his neck.

"I'd watch your mouth _halfling! _Nothing is stopping any of us from blasting you into dust. Count yourselves lucky we need a couple peons to run some errands for us."

"Wouldn't have something to do with a bunch of immortal monks with swords, would it?"

Dionysus glances at Samson. The child of wisdom peers at him, scanning for any subtle reaction to see if Dionysus will give anything away.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite new god. How've you been, my boy?"

"Hey hold on," Samuel says, "How come you're not being a dick to him?"

"Whatever do you mean?" He takes another sip of wine, "Samson and I are good buddies! Isn't that right?"

"You got my brother high," Samson deadpans, "And he took over camp because of it."

"Oh, did I?"

"Yeah. He kinda sorta died because of it."

"Bah, demigods come and go. At least Ricky will have died better than most. Not many can claim they've taken control from Chiron, even fewer weren't killed by him personally."

Samuel raises an eyebrow and looks at Mori. She shrugs, "It's a long story. About three hundred thousand I think."

"Yeesh, sounds like a heck of a story."

"Gods you have no idea!"

"Silence!" Dionysus snaps, not in the mood for any hijinks, "Either shut up and listen or have your entrails scattered over the Atlantic!"

Everyone in the room instantly quiets down. Even though Dionysus is fairly relaxed at the best and uncaring at the most, he's still the god of _madness_. Faint screams, laughs and shrieks of men and women echo in everyone's ears. A subtle reminder of just _who _they're pissing off and what he could do to them if he wanted.

Samson curses to himself for his foolishness. Years ago, his own mother, the Goddess of Wisdom advised him to be cautious around Dionysus and his domain. Even she herself must be careful, madness can even afflict deities.

"Our apologies," Samson says for everyone, "Please, tell us what you need and we'll get to it."

Dionysus takes a sip of his wine and studies Samson, "Good, I love when they grovel at my feet."

Samuel tenses, but Hylla grabs his hand and squeezes reassuringly. His shoulders relax and he breathes deeply outwards.

"I'll need the both of you for this one. One of my more renowned temples has stopped sending me my fair sacrifice of wine. I suspect Demeter had a hand in this. Likely got some of my bastard Karpos to rise up and destroy my vineyard. Both of you are going there and will take care of them. I don't want to hear of a single one acting out after this! Now, chop-chop! You were supposed to have this done yesterday!"

Samuel rolls his eyes and heads over to the counter to grab his keys.

"Fine, let's go Owl boy. Where's this vineyard at?"

Dionysus grins, "California."

* * *

The plane jolts as it hits the tarmac, slowly coming to a halt as it drives to the dock. Samson taps Samuel's shoulder and the Son of Strife slowly awakens. He takes his sleeping mask off and rubs his eyes.

"Sam, plane's landed."

Samuel nods groggily a few times, "Ugh, I love first class! Wine, food, great seats, what more could you ask for?!"

"Not getting blasted out of the sky by Zeus?"

As if on cue thunder rumbles overhead, almost like it was agreeing with Samson's quip. Samuel rolls his eyes and mutters 'drama queen' to himself. Suddenly something _loud _explodes around the plane, blinding everyone for a few seconds and causing the electricity to go out.

Everyone mutters fearfully in the darkness for a few moments until a flight attendant with a flashlight walks out into the pathway.

"Everyone please just _calm down! _Everything is alright, the plane was hit by lightning and we lost power. In a nice and orderly fashion head for the front-most door. We're going to use the emergency slide to exit the aircraft."

Samson turns and looks at Samuel, raising an eyebrow. Samuel scowls lightly to himself.

"…Shut up!"

The duo, after a very long process of plane evacuation and many apologies from the mortal flight crew, made their way out of the airport and into a car Samuel rented for their journey. The California air was hot and humid that day, little cloud coverage and only a faint breeze cool anyone down.

No monsters made themselves know during the two Sam's journey through California. The Vineyard was several hours away from the Los Angeles airport, the southern part of the state being the best for the type of grape being grown.

"Hey, Samuel?" Samson asks, "Why did we fly in the first place? I can teleport us with mirrors!"

Samuel scowls, "Yeah, I'm not using that _thing _anymore! I swear every time I feel myself dying more and more. I have more money than I could reasonably use, might as well do something fun with it."

"Is that why you booked us on the most expensive flight you could find and bought us a three-course meal?"

"Yup!"

Samson rolls his eyes, "Rich little snob."

Samuel swerves the car violently, causing Samson to bash his head against the window.

"First off, I ain't a fuckin' snob! So cut the sass you wannabe hippie prick! Dad raised me right!"

"Uh huh, that why you turned out to be a psychopath?"

The car swerves around a slow tourist bus. Samson almost hits his head again, but he catches himself with his arm. Samuel glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Shut the fuck up, you have no right to say anything! I've heard about some of the shit you did too, ass hole. How'd your bro's appreciate everything? You know, considering they all died because of your mistakes!"

Samson snaps his mouth shut and looks out the window. Samuel goes back to driving, a deafening silence hanging over the vehicle.

Was it shitty of Samuel to say shit like that? Well, yes, he agrees. But he has a reason for saying it; Fuck him.

…What? That's all he needs.

"There, that exit."

Samuel takes the car off the exit and follows it to a dirt road leading through miles upon miles of grape vines growing on trellis stakes. The sight is simple but hypnotizing in a sense. Thousands of plants grow in perfect sync with one another, the sweet scent of fresh grape filling the air with a dizzy aroma.

"Bacchus Vineyards," Samson reads the welcome sign, "Best wine this side of Olympus... Yup, this is the place."

A large building attached to a small, but respectable distillery appears over the hill. Samuel parks the car outside and the two exit. They stand outside the building and look around awkwardly. Not a single human sound can be heard. Only the wind blowing and the leaves rustling from the few scattered trees on the building grounds.

"Samson… this place seems pretty abandoned."

"Yeah… I don't think there's anyone here. Did they evacuate or something? Maybe the Karpos drove them off?"

Samuel looks around. For a brief second, he thinks he smells iron in the air, but the overpowering scent of wine covers it up. Maybe he just imagined it?

"Let's check the building."

* * *

The inside of the building was even more quiet than the outside. But unlike outside, the interior was torn up and destroyed, as if a herd of bulls were let loose. Chandeliers loosely hang from broken wires, furniture is toppled and torn, windows and glass fixtures shattered into thousands of pieces and the sick scent of iron hangs in the air.

Both instantly recognize it as the scent of blood, yet there's none visible.

"Man, this place smells like a massacre!"

"Yeah… then where's the blood? Where's the bodies?"

The two look at one another.

"Let's keep looking."

Fifteen minutes or so pass and only faint traces of a story come to Samson's mind. Despite a lack of bodies and mountains of evidence the truth of the events at Bacchus Vineyards still remains a mystery.

Samson parts from Samuel and heads to the managers office. He opens the door and examines the room. Like the rest of the building iron smells potent, but unlike the other parts of the house he detects a faint trace of chemicals too.

He kneels down to the carpet and runs his finger over the fabric. The light in the room is broken but sunlight still seeps in through the curtains. Instantly Samson recognizes a patch of discoloration in the fabric.

"It was bleached…"

Samson stands and heads over to the computer. He curses as he sees the tower mas been smashed completely. He digs through the remains and smiles lightly as he finds the hard drive.

"Not too damaged, might be able to get something."

He pockets computer part and works his way to the filing cabinet. He digs through the drawers but finds nothing. All of the paper files are missing completely.

"Smashed computer, bleach and iron, files are missing… something's been covered up here. Question is; what is it?"

He doubts he'll be able to find the answer here. He leaves the office and heads to the employee lounge where Samuel said he would be looking.

Meanwhile on the other side of the building Samuel scrunches his nose as he kicks open the door to the employee lounge. Flies buzz around rotten and molding food, iron still faintly detectable but not so much with the nasty scent overpowering it.

Well, he's found his fist clue at the least. Whatever happened here happened around lunch time, and it happened so fast that the employees didn't finish their meals.

The floor is concrete, but he recognizes a dark stain immediately. Someone bleached the floor here, and they bleached blood. Blood usually leaves a dark stain on concrete if the right chemical isn't used. Something taps against Samuel's foot and he looks down and picks up the plastic bottle.

"Liquid bleach, the stuff workplaces use. So, the attackers used the vineyards own cleaning supplies? This is sloppy work, but I still don't know what's happened here!"

He patrols the room a bit more but doesn't find much more then stains in the concrete and rotting food.

Some light flickers through the closed curtains and something glints through the window. Curious, Samuel moves the curtain and peers outside. Out in the field something discolored catches his eye.

"Yo, Samson. Come over here, I think I saw something."

* * *

Samuel moves some of the ashes around with his foot. Whatever was burning here has long since been put out, but without wind the ashes stayed put.

Samson gets low and runs a hand over a patch of the dirt.

"Samuel… feel the dirt. It's flaked all over. Dried blood."

He gets low and examines it, detecting the telltale sign of dried blood on the fertile dirt. The two look around the small, empty patch behind the main building and realize in a good ten-foot radius is the markings of dried blood.

Suddenly the story patches together for the most part in Samson's mind.

"I think I've got it. Someone or something raided the building in midday some undetermined time ago. They killed everyone inside and brought the bodies out here and piled them up. They then went inside and bleached the blood in the building and destroyed the main computer and burned the files right here."

He points to the pile of ashes, "Then, for whatever reason, they took the bodies and left this place."

Samuel puts a fist under his chin, "Sounds like a mercenary job. Bad blood with a rival company? An angry demigod getting revenge by destroying a 'temple' to Dionysus? They didn't take anything as far as I can tell, all they wanted was to kill the men working here and cover their tracks. My guess is they took the bodies to dispose of somewhere else, but this still doesn't make much sense to me."

"How do you figure?"

"Dionysus said Karpos were infesting the place, but we haven't seen signs of them here at all, let alone them being the culprits. These people were killed by something that thinks like a human and disposed of like a murderer would. Karpos would just have killed them, and it would've been much messier. I think the Karpos were always here, but something the workers did kept them pacified. Now that they're gone, Dionysus must've just glanced at this place and saw them running around or something and figured Demeter was responsible."

Samson's eyebrows scrunch together, "That… makes a lot of sense, actually. He was so lazy he didn't realize his followers were butchered by someone else. Biggest question is just who was actually responsible."

Samuel shrugs, "No clue. Let's just figure out what we're gonna do about the little fuckers. How many do you think there are?"

Before he can answer something sneezes to their right. The two look over down the path at a small shape idly hovering up and down in the air.

_Karpoi, _The two think, instantly remembering the familiar plant-baby things. Though… something is odd about this one. The Karpos sways a little bit as it idly hovers in the air. It's back is turned but they can tell it's clutching something in their hands.

Slowly it turns and the two Sam's see what it's holding.

"Samson?"

"Yeah?"

"It's drinking a bottle of wine."

The plant-baby burps then throws up purple bile. It drops the bottle and angry mumbles to itself.

"Grapes! G-" It belches again, "Grapes!"

Samson sighs and calls the monster over.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

Grapes looks over and points to himself, "G-grapes?"

"You know what happened here?"

The Karpos blinks its bright green eyes a few times, "Grape? Grape, grape-grape! GRAPES! Uhhhh... Grape?"

Samuel looks at Samson funny, "You… understand that thing?"

"Not at all. I forgot some of these guys are limited to saying one word at all."

He gets slapped in the back of the head for that. Samson whines a little but Samuel ignores him. The two bicker back and forth for a minute. Grapes buzzes around groggily on its wings for a second before calling out into the filed.

Oblivious to the duo, dozens upon dozens of little Karpoi climb their way free from the dirt all around the vineyard. They belch and groan from little hangovers, some vomit and others simply fall asleep halfway inside the ground.

Grapes mumbles to his kin and points at the Sam's. Despite his attempts to ask for assistance, Grapes' poor language skills instead calls the two burglars and arsonists.

Instantly the horde of Karpoi anger. The bare their needle-like fangs and hiss and growl, drawing the attention of Samuel and Samson.

"Samuel… Samuel there's more of them!"

"Shit! Get back to the car!"

They sprint away, immediately causing the horde to charge. Hundreds upon hundreds of drunken grain spirits follow behind at their heels, some crawling and others flying.

Samuel spins around and bats one away with his gun, another bites the stock and latches on with their powerful jaw. He shakes the gun violently, but it doesn't let go. He rolls his eyes and continues using the gun as a bat with the creature still attached.

The car comes in view around the corner, unfortunately so does another horde of Karpos from the other side of the vineyard.

"Samson! Do something!"

"What am I supposed to do?!"

"You're the god! Be useful for once!"

Samson rolls his eyes and rubs his hands together. He extends them at the car and a ring of fire circles around it.

"HOW IS THAT HELPING?!"

The fire parts, leaving an opening just big enough for the both of them to squeeze through unharmed. Samuel is quiet for a second.

"OKAY, GOOD PLAN!"

They dive through the fire and the barrier of fire closes behind them. Samuel throws the door open and the both of them scamper inside. The door closes, and he locks them inside.

Samson and Samuel breathe for a minute and gather their wits. A moment passes and Samuel turns to his comrade trapped with him.

"Okay… so there's a _bit _too many to handle by ourselves!"

"Agreed. Now how are we supposed to handle this many! I counted no less than three-hundred of them out there."

"With how big this field is I'm not surprised," Samuel wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, "This place must be a sanctuary for them or something."

Samson leans his seat back and looks at the ceiling, "The workers here must've had someway of handling the population. The only way to get this place under control is to figure that out."

"Well we can't go back out there! Not with all of those little devils waiting for the fire to fade!"

"Grapes!" Grapes agrees. Samson shrieks and looks in the backseat.

"What the-?! How did you _get _in here?!"

Grapes shrugs. Samuel groans. Samson sighs. The three sit for a minute in the car.

"Think we can gun it?"

Samuel thinks about it, "I doubt it, this thing is only a V4. I don't think we'll get enough speed to outrun them before they catch us."

"We could wait for night?" Samson suggests, "They might be asleep and we can gun it then. I can keep this fire going for days so we should be fine if we just wait."

The Son of Eris looks in the rearview mirror at Grapes. The Karpoi grins happily at him, showing him a big smile full of needle-sharp teeth. Samuel shudders and points a thumb back at the monster.

"What should we do with him? Kill it?"

Grapes' smile drops and Samson looks aghast at Samuel.

"What?! No you crazy maniac! He's too cute! He can be like… a mascot or something!"

Samuel looks at Grapes, "…Yeah, he's pretty cute. Fine, we'll wait until nightfall. It's only-" He looks at his watch, "…Twelve-thirty… FUCK! Whatever, I'll just put some tunes on."

He digs around in his pockets lazily for a few seconds and pauses, then his search becomes more frantic.

"…You left them inside?"

"…"

"…I can use the mirror."

"FUCK NO!"

Samson sighs and leans his seat back, "Then get comfy. We're gonna be here a while."


	5. Spooky Scary Ghosties

**A/N: Hey all, back here with another chapter! As promised we'll get into some more heavy pacing this chapter. Should be a fun one, the mystery of Bacchus Vineyards will be solved!...Not really, that actually comes later. As always, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Something softly beeps Samuel awake from his nap. He groans and flips his sleeping mask up and peers down at his watch. He presses a button and the alarm stops.

"One in the morning… fuck, this sucks dude."

"You're telling me, at least you can sleep! I have to be awake to keep the fire going."

Samuel turns and scowls at Samson. The Son of Athena rolls his eyes and rubs his eyelids. He has dark bags underneath them, but his godly constitution has the subtle benefit of allowing him to function on less sleep than even a demigod.

"You gonna get the keys?"

"_You gonna get the keys?!" _Samuel mocks in a girl voice, "Fuckin' open the fire so I can get the godsdamn keys!"

Samson smiles at the groggy Samuel, "Dear gods, you're an angry sleeper, ain'tcha?"

Samuel simply flips him off and exits the car. Samson opens a gap in the fire and closes it as his partner passes through. Grapes stretches on Samson's lap and snuggles in a little more against his chest.

"…Hope he doesn't die."

Outside of the ring of fire, Samuel silently makes his way back towards the main office building of the vineyard. Like Samson thought none of the Karpoi were awake now that it was so late at night.

_Might be a photosynthesis thing? _Samuel thinks, guessing that they act only in the sunlight like how actual plants do.

Samuel suddenly stills as he hears something rustling somewhere in the fields of grapes. He scans out across the fields, even with a huge ring of fire he can't see much passed the first row of trellis stakes.

The rustling stops and he only hears the faint wind and crackling of fire. He gives it another minute and leaves the light of the fire and becomes one with the shadows.

Stealth has always been one of Samuel's hidden talents. He doesn't really act on it much but it has come in handy many times in the past. He's also quite thankful the black-leather duster his mother, Eris, made for him.

It's hard like iron and almost never tears! Not only that, but the deep color is perfect for blending into the shadows. With this on, people will only ever see his skin if they have the skill to find him in the first place.

He opens the door to the building slowly and slides inside. He shuts it behind him and scans the room.

_Too dark, _Samuel reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a small, plastic flashlight. He turns it on and scans the counters with the dim, but effective enough light.

Something shines in the light and he smiles, "Gotcha!"

He pockets his lost keys and heads back for the door. Something suddenly _cracks _against the hardwood floor. In a blink of an eye Samuel has spun around and aims his gun at the source of the sound.

A small vase is shattered to pieces on the floor, but something is off about it…

"…I didn't do that… _Something else did!"_

He scans the room and takes slow steps back to the door, gun raised and ready to blast whatever monster pops up into dust.

But… nothing shows up. The room is silent, not even the sound of wind seeps in through the broken windows. It feels… cold, too cold. The building shouldn't be this cold!

His light shines in the corner leading to a hallway and for a second Samuel sees a shadow on the wall. Suddenly it vanishes down the hallway without so much as a sound.

Samuel bolts through the door, deciding whatever was in there isn't worth fighting right now and potentially waking the hordes outside. He runs for the ring of fire and it opens for him. He slides into the passenger seat and starts the engine.

Samson doesn't even have the time to lower the fire before Samuel guns the gas and tears down the dirt path.

"What's got you so worked up? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Samuel idly wipes some of the cold sweat from his face, "I think I might've!"

Samson sits straighter in his seat, "Wait, really?!"

"Yeah, there was a shadow in there or something. It didn't make a sound before it vanished. The room was cold too, way too cold. It felt totally _unnatural!"_

"Shit," Samson states bluntly, "Now we've got ghost problems too?! Dammit all… How should we handle it?"

Samuel thinks for a moment, "Honestly, I've got no clue! Spirits aren't my area of expertise."

"Damn, I wish Bianca was here."

"Who's that?"

"Hmm? Oh, nobody. Just an apprentice of mine, her parentage would be wonderful if there was spirits around, though."

Samuel glances in the rearview mirror, scanning for any movement.

"Well, not sure what kind of spirits are here, but as a Child of Eris I can control a small classification of ghosts. They have to be vengeful or Phonoi, things that are violent basically. I don't have many flashy powers, but I can always summon a little help if I absolutely need to."

Movement in the field catches Samson's eye. He sits upright in his seat and scans the rows of grapes, only to see nothing.

"…That'll be useful… I think there's something out there."

Suddenly Samuel smashes his foot on the breaks. The tires _scream _from the sudden resistance and Samson and Grapes are thrown forward. He catches Grapes before the Karpos can smash into the window and turns to Samuel with scorn in his eyes.

"The hell dude?! You almost hurt Grapes!"

Samuel points to the road in front of him. Samson turns and mouths a silent 'Oh'. Twenty feet in front of the car is a bloodied man. His shirt is torn, shreds of his flesh hang loosely from his body and streams of blood leak down his legs.

Only… that's not what the two are concerned about. What sets off the alarms for them is that he's completely transparent like a…

"Ghost! Samuel get us out of here!"

He puts his foot gas and floors it, driving the vehicle into the field and running over dozens upon dozens of grape stakes. As they drive in a big arc around the spirit it turns its' hollow eyes to them and peers into the car.

Samuel meets its eyes as he goes past. The pale white, blood-teared and soulless eyes of the spirit leers at him, and for a moment a brief and unnatural panic fills his heart. It passes quickly as Samuel realizes it's an affect of the spirit and points a hand at the ghost. He snaps and hopes his powers work on it.

For a second the spirit starts fading away, when suddenly it explodes back into full color and unleashes loose a primal _scream _of death and damnation. The sound is fierce and piercing, like the fields of punishment have been opened on Earth.

Samuel curses and shifts gears, the vehicle lurches and starts gaining even more speed, the engine roaring with exertion.

"Samuel, what the Hades was that?! I thought you said your powers would work on it?!"

"They did for a second, but that's old news now. There's something else out there with a stronger control over the dead then me! I felt it when I used my powers, the spirit started to vanish then something suddenly took control from me. For a brief second our powers clashed, but the other was stronger, _way _stronger! We need to get out of here _now _before whatever is out there comes for us itself!"

Before Samson can respond the windows in the car explode into glass shards! Samuel curses as the car swerves, he gets it under control just in time for a shadowy arm to grab his face and start pulling at it. The figures jagged nails cut along his cheek and he grabs the arm and yanks it hard.

A vague head is pulled into the car and he punches it with all his strength. The shadow-man is thrown dozens of feet it the vineyard and smashes through wooden stakes.

Samson wrestles with the arms of several shadow-men, fending them off as they try and pull themselves inside the car.

"Samuel, what the fuck are these things?!"

"More spirits! If you've got any Ghost Busters shit now's the time to use em'! We've got a whole bunch more coming!"

Samson glances out of the back window and sees what looks like a mass of rolling shadows chasing them, spindly arms claw at the back of the car and ghastly, gaunt faces form from the shadows. The spirits moan and groan, what looks like blood leaking from their empty eye sockets and mouths.

He curses and starts punching the specters in their faces, throwing them from the car where they're absorbed by the shadow-mass behind them.

"Do they have a weakness or something?! Fire, light?! Give me something, man!"

"We need serious light!" Samuel replies, "If we can get to the city they'll back off! These kind of ghosts are only active at night, they have a severe light allergy!"

_A light Allergy? _Something clicks in Samson's mind, "Close your eyes, things are about to get bright!"

"What the fuck are you-"

Samuel's curse is cut off as the world around them explodes into a bright light like a supernova.

* * *

Ringing pierces Samuel's ears. He groans and opens his eyes, colors and shapes of all sorts float in his vision and he blinks rapidly and rubs them to clear up his sight. After a few minutes the ringing stops and the colorful world is replaced by a blurry night.

He blinks a few times more and his vision finally sharpens.

"The… the fuck happened?" He sits himself upright and sees he's now sitting in the passenger seat of the car. Samson's driving idly down a highway road and glances at his passenger.

"Oh good, you're up."

"Just answer the damn question!"

Samson rolls his eyes, "You crashed the car. I _told _you to cover your eyes, but _noooo! _You're lucky you can see at all, let alone get away with only a bruise on your head."

Samuel pats his head and winces as he feels the bump, "Fuckin' whatever dude! What the hell did you do back there?! I felt like I was looking at the sun!"

"Sunburst, so you're not actually that wrong. It's a powerful spell that uses rays of light to attack. I told you to cover your eyes since we were in an enclosed area, but whatever. The spirits left after the light bomb, and a second later you drove us off the road and smashed us into a power box. Thank the gods the car was fine, but you bashed the steering wheel pretty hard with your head. We need to find a motel or something, stuff isn't adding up here and I want to do some research on things."

"Whelp, you can have fun with that! As soon as we find a Motel I'm passing right the fuck out! My head hurts like shit and I got clawed in the face by Danny Phantom. This night needs to just be over already!"

Samson goes back to focusing on the road and spots a sign pointing to the right.

"Oh good, here's a motel."

"A Motel Six? Dude, I don't want to be surrounded by crack-dens all night. You can find somewhere at least _kind of _nice!"

"You feel like waiting another half an hour for the same kind of motel?"

"…Just take me to the damn Motel Six."

Samson pulls the car into lot of the motel and makes his way to the check in with Samuel and peaches. The woman running the counter is younger, likely the owner's daughter, but clearly doesn't care for the place.

The white tile floor is dirty brown from dried mud, the lights are old and days away from burning out, and smalls gnats and moths buzz around the place.

"Cute baby," States the bored motel manager, likely seeing Grapes as a toddler because of the mist, "No discounts though. Rooms are a flat rate."

Samson snaps his fingers and the sound whistles like a firecracker. The girl at the counter goes bleary eyed and her head drops against her counter. For a second Samuel thinks she's dead, but she starts snoring lightly.

"There uh… a reason you did that?"

The Son of Athena steps around the counter and heads for the back office. He comes back a few minutes later a computer tower, monitor, keyboard and mouse along with some wires.

"Grab a key, will you?"

Samuel grabs a set of keys from the rack and heads outside with Samson.

"Why'd you steal that? It looks like it's worth maybe a couple hundred bucks at most."

"I grabbed a hard drive from the office back at the vineyard. I need something to plug it into and I don't feel like waiting for morning to find some computer café. Plus this place is gross, I don't feel like paying for shit at a place like this!"

"Grapes!" Grapes agrees. Samson smiles and gives him a little pet. Samuel groans and unlocks the door with the same number as their key.

"You've gotta stop giving that thing attention, dude. He's a monster!"

"He's our mascot!"

"I did _not _agree to that!"

Grapes gives Samuel a cute, yet surprisingly scary glare and scoffs, instead choosing to fly next to Samson.

Samuel rolls his eyes and jumps on the bed, he settles in for a few moments and shuts his eyes. Sleep comes for him quickly.

* * *

Light flickers in through the curtain and splashes Samuel's face. Morning has come. He sits up and something heavy rolls of his lap and smacks the floor.

Grapes whines from his rude awakening but Samuel ignores him and looks around the room.

"Uh, have you been up all night?"

At some point in the night Samson set up the computer at the cheap desk some motels come with and has been hunched over it. Papers with assorted writings are pinned to the walls, notes and photos with strings attached to them interconnect them all and gives Samuel a weird vibe, like a conspiracy theory thing or something.

Samson spins around in his chair, "What? Oh, doesn't matter. What matters is that I think we've hit a break through! I spent all night looking over things and I think I know what's going on!"

Samuel comes to his side and looks over the assorted notes.

"Flavius, Bacchus, Dionysus… Lares? I'm seeing that word a bunch. I've never heard of a monster like that."

"Exactly! We've been distracted thinking a person or a monster was causing the trouble, but it's something else completely! Samuel, a Lares is a Roman guardian spirit! Like a god or something, only very specific and much less powerful in scope. I went through some of the files in the hard drive and I found that the manager had made several references to this 'Lares'. I think this vineyard was primarily run by Romans, or they at least had a large influence here."

"Well, shit. How are we supposed to handle a nature god, then? I haven't dealt with many Roman things before, can we kill it?"

Samson shakes his head, "Maybe, but I don't think killing a nature god would be in our best interest. Curses and shit usually happen when people do that. I've looked at some maps and found a cave that runs under parts of the vineyard. I suspect it's made its' home there, but I still haven't found out anything about what kind of Lares lives there! The hard drive I swiped had plenty of names, but nothing too important. I'll have to look over it when we have more time."

"What about… Mori?" Samuel questions, "She seems like a real Bobby Singer style character. Maybe she knows about the Lard thing?"

Samson is quiet for a second, "My gods… Sam, you're a genius!"

He bolts from his seat and runs passed Samuel. The Son of Eris blinks a few times and sighs. He makes his way to the check-in office and watches Samson desperately typing numbers into the phone, the girl at the counter still asleep from yesterday.

"You know, you can just ask me for my house num-"

"Mori, is that you?! Good! Quick question, what do you know about Lares?!"

Samuel's mouth hangs open for a moment, _How did he…? You know what, I don't care._

After a few minutes Samson hangs up the phone and approaches Samuel. They chat for a minute and Samson drags them back to the car, the Athena spawn deciding it best he drives rather than his partner.

Samuel agrees.

They fly down the highway and back towards the vineyard, this time the sun is high in the air and any chance of the spirits returning is next to none. However, they still potentially have the Karpoi to handle.

"What's the plan, then? Did she give you any good advice?"

"Nope! Lares are picky by the individual, only way to figure this out is to talk to it ourselves."

Samuel beats the back of his head against his seat rest but stops when his migraine flares up.

"Great. Just great! The hell are we supposed to do, then?! Sit down and have some tea and biscuits?!"

"Just calm down, man, a little friendliness goes a long way! We just talk with the thing, figure out the problem and solve it. Simple as that!"

"_Simple as that?!" _Samuel half-shrieks, "Nothing is simple! Nothing is _ever_ simple! You know what's gonna happen?! We go to some stupid cave, get chased by some unspeakable horror, the Lares shows up and says some evil garbage and _I _have to solve it either by shooting it or making some bullshit promise that comes to bite me in the ass later!"

Samson glances at Samuel, "You know… Self-fulfilling prophecies are a real thing."

"SHUT UP AND DRIVE!"

* * *

"Stay in the car, Grapes."

Grapes whines as Samson closes the door. Samuel cracks the window, so he doesn't die of heat stroke and the two make their way from the primary building. They travel through a small path in the fields, the two being careful not to awaken any of the Karpoi, and towards an old dried out creek.

Samson swings a right and journeys down the creek, eventually the small creek runs straight into the mouth of a cave.

Something similar to a groan echoes from the cave, a gust of wind carrying the sound over the heads of the two Sam's as they approach the entrance.

"Yup, spooky sounds, ancient cave system, this is the place!"

Samson turns to his companion, "Can you stop being shitty for like _five _minutes? We're going on an adventure, at least _try _to enjoy it."

"Nope! Hell-fucking-NOPE! I'm sick of this SHIT! ALL THESE GODS! ALL THESE ASSHOLES NOT LEAVING ME ALONE! EAT A DICK LARES, YOU HERE ME?! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR SHIT!"

"…You done?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Let's go get this shit over with."

The two enter the cave, the dark shadows under the sun consuming them and serving to remind them of what they're going to face.

Samuel looks behind them as they journey forward and watches as the rocks seemingly warp and grow over the entrance, locking them in and cutting of their source of light.

Samson opens his palm and a small, glowing ball of light floats from it and hovers over their heads. He looks about the cavern, stalactites hang from the ceiling, some still drip water and others are cracked and dried out.

Old bits of dried bread and other assorted food litters the corners of the cave, even a few dead animal bones placed in artistic ways inside of a few carved out holes in the walls.

"Must be sacrifices or something," Samuel says, "Some real old-fashioned stuff. Most people just burn things, but these guys went the extra mile. What's the chances of this… thing being reasonable?"

Something crunches under Samson's foot and he looks down. It's the bones of a small coyote, but the bones are cracked open and visibly chewed on.

"Let's… just see how it goes."

The two travel a few minutes further down the cave, and around the corner a small shrine made of wood and painted with old, red paint stylized like a tiny version of an old Roman Temple.

Immediately Samson recognizes the design, it's the same one as the larger building he saw when he was a gladiator at Camp Jupiter. If he remembers right from what he learned… then you kneel, then ask?

Samson drops down to one knee and bows his head. A pressure then fills the room, as though he was several meters under water.

Samuel's hand twitches as he looks about the cavern. Shadows like people dance along the walls, outlines of figures that seem to stare at him despite having no facial features exude an aura of malice. He slowly removes his rifle from his back and readies it for the coming battle.

"Oh… holiest Lares…? I am here to… ask for a parlay?"

"Dude," Samuel whispers, "What the _fuck _are you doing?!"

"I don't know! I'm just trying to sound old-fashioned and godly or something?!"

"Then fucking stop! The shadows are getting agitated!"

Suddenly the tiny door to the shrine slams open, groans and echoes of the damned sound from it, and over it a voice that sounds ambiguously like a man and a woman calls out to the Sam's, malice barely laced beneath their words.

"**Leave! Leave my home trespassers! Filthy Graecus… Your kind has been banned forever! After what you've done you **_**dare **_**face me again! I SAID BEGONE!"**

The cavern shakes violently as the god roars, the shadows painted into the wall emerge from the and race after the Sam's.

With an eagle's eye Samuel blasts the shadow-spirts as they charge them, well placed shots destroying their ethereal bodies with only a single bullet.

Samson curses and calls out to the Lares, "WAIT! Just hold on! We didn't kill anyone, someone else did! Dionysus sent us here! We're trying to figure out _what happened!"_

The god ignores him and his tiny temple shakes. More shadows flow from the door and swirl around the room like a whirlpool, encircling the Sam's and slashing at them every so often.

**"Filthy Liars! Destroyers, thieves, murderers! Die in pain and be consumed by the pit! Feed his growing armies!"**

More and more spirits emerge from the walls, and join the torrent of ghosts. Many are blasted inside to nothingness but it's basically pointless. Every spirit Samuel destroys with his gun is only replaced by another seconds after the other. Slowly the spectral storm grows more violent and bold, progressively gaining strength and filling the cavern.

The sounds of the dead become deafening, like the pits of Tartarus opened on earth the dead men and women shriek, hiss, moan and groan. It's like almost like a personal doorway to the fields of punishment have started growing onto the surface world.

Samson throws his hands out and beams of light like solar flares flow from his fingertips. Quite literally darkness clashes with the light. The Son of Athena grits his teeth and battles against the storm of the dead, pushing the whirlwind of spirits away from the shrine and herding them further down the cave.

"Samuel!" Samson cries over the screams of damnation, "Handle the Lares, quickly! I can't hold these guys off forever!"

Samuel nods and turns to the shrine. He raises his rifle and unleashes a torrent of bullets. For a second the bullets bounce harmlessly off the stone, but suddenly something like a glass aura breaks around the shrine.

Slowly now his powerful bullets start demolishing the front wall to the shrine. Each shot slowly crumbles more and more of the stone, exposing a faint, blue glow hidden inside a ball of shadows resting inside the shrine.

Samuel squints as he looks at the ball of shadow. It pulses, like a heart, when he suddenly realizes it's not a ball of shadow, rather it's a _worm _curled around a faint divine light.

He lines up his shot and pulls the trigger. The shadows around the light _explodes _as his bullet strikes true. The parasite _squeals _a shrill cry of death, the cave rumbles violently like an earthquake as it writhes in pain, its' form slowly dissolving as the light inside its' stomach starts glowing more and more brilliantly.

The, like a firework, the shadow-worm explodes, bright and beautiful colors spark over the Sam's heads, the amazing show of light dispersing the rest of the spirits in the cave permanently.

The aura of pressure that was hanging in the cave is lifted, instead it's replaced by a gentle and loving breeze, an aura of compassion replacing that of hate. Faint light fills the cave, the harsh and defined shadows melt away as the whole cave seemingly brightens despite there being no light.

Samuel puts his gun away and looks at the shrine. A small orb of brilliant blue light slowly lowers to the floor, transforming into the form of a small girl dressed in an old Roman style toga.

Her entire form is made from a soft blue light, and just looking at it eases Samuel's stress if only by a small amount.

The purified nature spirit smiles wetly, her words flowing like honey, _"Thank you, brave heroes. Thanks to you the corruption that has consumed me has been lifted. Now, I am free to be my true self once again."_

"You're quite welcome, Miss…?"

The Lares smiles_, "I am Alba, it is a pleasure to meet ones such as yourself. Unheard of is it for a son of Minerva and Discordia to exist at all, let alone for them to unite together. Ah how the times change, It pleases me."_

Samuel glances at Samson for a second before returning his attention to Alba, "Right… anyways I just wanted to ask you some things."

Alba's sweet smile drops, _"I am sorry, but the tragedy that took place here is not one I can answer. With the corruption came the loss of my memory. Whatever happened here is not something I can answer for. I am truly sorry to have wasted your time. I have little to gift, if that at all, but please, accept my sincerest thanks."_

The Son of Eris groans and turns back, heading for the entrance to the cave. Samson gives him a funny look for such a rude gesture but Samuel ignores him.

"I'll be at the car," Samuel calls over his shoulder, "Hurry up or I'm going to leave you behind!"

Samson rolls his eyes and turns back to Alba.

"I'm sorry about him, he's a little…"

"_Rude?"_

"Putting it lightly, yes. Now I know you said you can't remember anything, but does the concept of monks in dark robes with swords mean anything to you?"

Alba goes to deny Samson, when a sudden look of confusion crosses her face. Her eyebrows scrunch together, and she looks off to the side as though she's trying to remember something important.

"Interesting," Samson states slowly, "Very, _very _interesting."


	6. Samuel the Dad Man

**A/N: It's ya' boy, Guzma, back at it again with da' chapters…. Anyways we've got another chapter! This guy should be going up not long after the other, so I hope you guys enjoy the follow up from last chapter. **

* * *

The plane jolts a little in the air. Samuel tenses, expecting them to get blasted out of the air, but thankfully it doesn't happen. After dealing with the Lares and ensuring the nature god will keep the local Karpoi settled the two Sam's called it a successful day and headed back home.

Not once did Dionysus or an envoy of his show up to announce their success or anything, and Samson thinks that's because he forgot to or just didn't care enough.

Samuel thinks that too. Dionysus is a bag of dicks.

Grapes yawns a big mouth full of sharp teeth and snuggles more comfortably into Samson's lap. He's not sure how he did it, but Samuel thinks the mist is making people see him as a service animal or something.

"I can't believe you're bringing that with you."

Samson looks offended, "Man, Grapes is a cutie! There's no way I could just leave him behind, we've bonded."

"_They've bonded_…" Samuel mutters to himself, "Fine, then you're the one paying for his expenses!"

"You make it sound like he's going to college," Grapes burps in his sleep, "…He probably eats grass or something, he'll be fine. Besides, I've got a lot of money saved away, fruits and shit are cheap."

"Fine, fine! Freakin' hippie, literally adopting plant-baby monsters like a lost dog."

Samson ignores Samuel's mutterings and goes back to looking out the window of the plane. Silence passes between them for much of the flight, and about half way through Samuel strikes up a conversation because of sheer boredom.

"What do you think went on in that place?"

"What place?"

"The vineyard. Crap was _really _freaking weird there and stuff didn't add up. You overthink things so you must've figured out the shit back there already."

Samson gives Samuel a salty look and rolls his eyes, "Maybe I overthink things, but I do for good reason! I haven't figured out the whole story, but I have my suspicions. The Lares unintentionally proved at least one of my theories right, however."

"And what's that?"

"That the cult is involved somehow. The Lares lost her memory but when I asked her about monks she had a brief moment of recollection."

Samuel is quiet for a minute, "Oh for fuck's sake, it's a mystery story, isn't it?!"

Samson nods. Samuel curses again, "Ugh, great! More and more bullshit! Whatever… any idea what that thing was wrapped around the Lares?"

Samson turns to him, "What thing? I was busy dealing with the ghost storm."

"Oh right. Fuck, there was some kind of dark-shadowy _thing _wrapped around the Lares' spirit or something. The spirit was freed when I shot it and immediately after those ghosts vanished. Is that like, just a thing that happens to nature gods like that?"

"…No, not at all. Samuel, that sounds like a corruption, but what is strong enough to fully corrupt a god?"

Samuel goes quiet, because whatever could do something like that is something he doesn't want to ever face.

* * *

"…You okay over there?"

Samson looks up at Hylla, the Queen reading over reports from attacks and raids on some of her warehouses. Minor things really that happen all the time. Monsters or rogue factions like to attack them often, thinking their warehouses are weak. It's a shame, really, how pathetic it is to watch an eight-man squad get demolished by close to a hundred Amazon's in each report.

The son of Athena just waves a hand at Hylla, "Oh, just thinking about some things. Stuff just isn't making sense to me, you know? I don't know, maybe those monks are nothing, but it's just rubbing me the wrong way."

Hylla nods and shuffles through some of her papers, "I've had my girls do some research for me these past couple days. They haven't been able to turn anything up, but just give it some time. They're some of the best and we're safe as can be here, so don't worry about."

"I guess," He says, "Where's Samuel, by the way? I haven't seen him all day."

"In the garden I think."

"The garden? Since when has he had a green thumb?"

"Oh gods he's _awful _at it," Hylla says with an amused smile, "Now that he has nothing to do he's started doing random dad-projects. He made a deck for us one time, except that the wood broke under his weight. Next was car restoration and that wasn't much better. His 'hot-rod' caught fire and exploded. Now he's gone on to gardening, and already half of his garden is dead, and the rest are weeds. Actually, I don't think he's realized he's basically been growing and caring for things he didn't plant at this point."

Samson hides his smile behind his hand, "Oh my gods… he's fucking _gardening _now?!"

The two of them share a laugh for a minute.

"I'll go check up on him. It would be nice to be away from paperwork for a second."

* * *

"Babe, you out here?"

Hylla steps through the door leading to their garden and stops when she feels a wave of nausea rolls over her. She leans against the door and holds a hand to her middle, feeling like she's moments away from vomiting.

Thankfully, the feeling passes. She wipes her forehead and makes her way further into the garden. She thinks she must be getting sick but feels fine now.

_I'll just grab some medicine later, _Hylla eventually finds Sam desperately clawing at the dirt with one of those three-fingered garden hand-rake things. He's dressed in some old clothes, all of which are covered in dirt, and he's muttering angry curses at the inanimate dirt as he tries to rip up old roots from it.

"You know, we can hire a professional gardener."

Samuel sighs and drops his tool down in defeat, "I know… I just wanted to try and do nice things for you with my _own _hands instead of hiring some random guy."

Hylla beams him a beautiful smile and drops down to the ground beside him. She wraps her arms around him and gives him a loving kiss on the cheek.

"Aww, you do care! You're sweet, Sam, but don't kill yourself over some stupid plants. Just ask Samson for help, surely _he _of all people would know how to plant a garden."

Samuel snickers and leans against Hylla, "He sure would, what with those _actual _flowers growing out of his jacket! I still have no idea how he does that, least of all how he makes them explode like a grenade!"

"Is that what that explosion was, back then?"

"Yup! Dude threw a flower at me, I laughed at him then – BOOM! The fuckin' thing explodes!"

Hylla lets out a hearty laugh and shares in Samuel's delight, the story just being so ridiculous they have no choice but to laugh. She gives Samuel another passionate kiss and he grins and smashes his mouth against hers.

Being a Queen of Amazons, Hylla rises to the challenge and throws Samuel over her shoulder and smashes him into the torn up dirt. She places her knee on his chest and presses down, smirking at her trapped husband.

"That all you got?" She mocks, "Or is the old king of the Gargareans losing his edge?"

Samuel grins and throws her knee off him, knocking her off balance where he grabs her and flips her over, quickly pinning her arms down and grinning at his wife.

"I ain't old! Still got plenty of fight left in me!"

Hylla's eyes shine with a dangerous, yet playful glint. Her arms tense and she goes to throw him off with her superior strength thanks to her belt when someone clears their throat behind them.

"Ehem! Despite my domain, I rather _don't _approve of people shagging on the earth to fertilize their gardens. There are much better things than that these days."

Samuel scampers off his wife and helps her to her feet. They turn and face a tall woman with gorgeous, flowing golden hair like wheat.

The stranger gives the two a careful, yet thinly disguised disgusted expression. Her green robes flow like blades of grass in an invisible wind and her sharp, brown eyes make Hylla flinch away when she looks into them long enough.

The beautiful woman twirls a strand of her hair around her finger and leers at the two demigods, "…Anyways, Samuel, I have decided your services are required."

Hylla gives the stranger a fierce glare, "Sorry lady, but I'd like to have your name before you _t__ry _to kidnap my husband!"

"Well I never! Does no one recognize me when they're in my presence anymore?! I know Zeus is _always _the popular one, but at least my domains are important! Where would mankind be if I hadn't taught them _anything _about agriculture?! Nowhere, that's what! You'd still be digging in the mud and eating bugs were it not for me! _I'd like to have your name! _Hmph! I'm Demeter, you Roman filth! Remember it next time or I'll turn you into a tree and set it on fire!"

Samuel instantly sizes Demeter up despite her standing a foot over his head. He glares at her with a fierce intensity and she simply raises a curious eyebrow.

"Hey! You don't EVER call her filth! Apologize RIGHT NOW!"

Hylla yanks him back and hisses into his ear, "SAM! She is a _goddess! _I told you to stop picking fights with people!"

"Listen to your woman, boy, she has more sense than you! Thought that's not all that surprising. Eris's spawn usually talk with violence rather than their brains."

Samuel's head snaps to her and he growls. All around them nearly a dozen spirits with gangly bodies and claws like knives emerge from the ground. Demeter glances at the Phonoi with a bored expression and snaps her fingers.

Instantly the spirits of violent murder turn into various grains that pile unceremoniously to the floor. Demeter turns to Samuel with a furious expression on her face and snaps her fingers.

He feels a searing pain course over his entire body, like every nerve in his body is being triggered at once and for a long time. A minute passes and Samuel crashes into the dirt, pain still wracking his body but in a different way.

This pain feels hollow, like it's attacking his very soul. Demeter stands over his prone form and glances down, amused with her work. Hylla desperately tries to comfort Sam as he shakes in pain. She looks up at the goddess and pleads with her.

"My Lady, what did you do to him?! Is he okay?!"

"Take off his shirt and see for yourself. I'm actually proud of this one. Haven't had a creative punishment like this in years."

Hylla rips his shirt off and gasps at what she sees. Covering every inch of his body below his neck are scars carved into the shapes of names, hundreds upon hundreds of them.

"Mark, Jackson, Sheppard, Hunter? Who are these people?!"

"Those who've died because of the boy's lust for power. He was once the king, and under his rule many have died because of his selfish desire for strength. You know this well, _Queen of the Amazon's! _You've aligned yourself with a man whom violates the laws of life like an ignorant child. Did you truly expect he would never face punishment? I am the Goddess of Sacred law, as such it is my right to punish those who act without a care for others in this world. See it lucky I allowed him to live at all. Once he accomplishes my task then I might consider removing the scars if he does a good job and is a fair sport about it."

Samuel groans and barely manages to grit out through pained gasps, "H-how?! Why does it hurt so bad?!"

"Hmm? Oh, that's just your soul slowly dying. A side effect of my curse, you'll be dead in only a few days. So get to it! My task isn't going to complete itself!"

"Buy My lady!" Hylla pleads desperately, "He can't do anything like this! At least give us some time to try and get him able enough to do your task!"

Demeter gazes into Hylla's eyes, "You have to the end of the night. I won't wait any longer."

* * *

Samson and Mori gaze at the scars on Samuel's back, each lost in their thoughts as they try and figure out a way for Samuel to get some relief. It's honestly quite amazing he's awake at all. Most people, even a demigod, would've passed out from pain by this point.

"Mori, I think alchemy is the way to go. A healing potion of some kind? One designed for relieving the absolute worst pain?"

"I've got just the one in mind. _Bio anakoúfisi. _An old potion used during the time of the Titans for pain relief. One sip and you'll feel as loose as the wind, or in Samuel's case not suffering so much."

She snaps her fingers and a small glass bottle filled with red liquid appears in the air from a puff of smoke. Mori takes the potion and hands it over to Hylla.

"Just one sip every few hours! If he has too much his muscles could atrophy and he'll never be able to get them back again. This should last him two days if he uses it sparingly but be _careful! _Even with the potion his nerves are sensitive. Sufficient stress could send his body into shock! He _has _to be careful to avoid sufficient pain or he could sieze!"

The Queen nods and takes the potion. She gently tilts his head up and fills the cap with the liquid. Carefully she drips it down his throat and waits. Slowly Samuel's expression of agony vanishes, his blood vessels smoothing out with his skin and the tenseness in his muscles slowly evens out.

Samuel gazes up at the ceiling with a blank expression. Hylla looks at him curiously and pats his cheek.

"Sam… you okay, buddy?"

"Dude… this is the _best high ever!"_

Hylla slaps his cheek and pulls him into a hug. Samson and Mori call out to her, reminding her _not to cause pain or he'll have a seizure! _She numbly apologizes and holds her husband close.

Samuel, thanks to having taken the potion so recently, didn't start seizing. His skin tingles oddly and he giggles from the funny feeling.

"Gods, I haven't felt this relaxed in years! Hey guys, wanna go do something today?! I'm feeling like a water park, or maybe the beach!"

"Sam," Hylla starts, "Demeter, remember?"

"Oh. OH! Yeah I'll get right on that! I'll have it done in a jiffy!"

He hops off the couch like an acrobat and races down the hallway and outside the side door leading to the garden. His companions watch him cartoonishly vanish with stupefied expressions.

"I think… it might've been too strong for him."

"Hylla, should you-?"

"Yup, way ahead of ya'!" She jumps up and races after Samuel, hoping to catch him and join his trial before Demeter can take him away.

She bursts through the garden door and calls out for Samuel to wait, only it was to late. She watches Demeter and Samuel disappear in a tornado of grains and Cheerios and curses to herself.

"Fuck… he's totally fucking fucked!"

* * *

The swirling tornado of grains and cereals vanishes around Samuel. Demeter looks around the clearing, rows of crops planted for miles in every direction with a faint, orange light barely peeking through a small batch of trees maybe half a mile away.

The Goddess smiles fondly but quickly drops it as she turns to her slave-I mean- helper.

"Listen closely. Where that light is you'll find a young girl. You are to assist her with her need on my behalf, keep her safe and get her inside Indianapolis and returned to her companions. Should any harm befall her I'll have your skin torn from your body and have your flesh sprout plants in my garden! Am I understood?!"

Samuel stares at her blankly, "…Do you say oh my god?"

Demeter pinches the bridge of her nose, "Just go already."

She vanishes in a torrent of grains, leaving a high Samuel to wander a field of corn by himself for a couple of hours until he sobered up enough to remember what's going on.

Samuel's head rings painfully, his mental high vanishing and leaving a splitting headache in its' place. He shambles about groggily for about half an hour as he makes his way towards the light Demeter said to go to.

He feels his pocket and sighs in relief as he feels the potion Hylla gave him. Thankfully he remembers Mori's warnings about only taking some every few hours and not more than a sip, otherwise he'd be straight fucked!

The fire is close by, and he approaches it cautiously. Only… there's nobody by it.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

Piercing pain suddenly erupts from his groin. He collapses to the ground in pain, and a sharp edge of something is placed against the side of his neck.

"WHO ARE YOU?! WHO SENT YOU?!"

The voice that demands from him is tiny and high pitched, like a child's. He groans and slaps the sword away. The figure holds their sword at him as he rises from the ground and shakes his head.

Samuel turns and makes out the figure of his attacker. Like he suspected, they're a child; a young girl with a green dress thing and yellow leggings or whatever girls call them. They're fairly light-skinned with black hair and red viewing glasses.

Despite their small size and obvious young age, the girl points her twin golden swords at Samuel with surety and cause. Her familiar brown eyes betrays nothing but determination and her stance shows she means to kill Samuel without a second thought.

_Huh, kid's actually pretty alright, _Samuel thinks, _But why in the world is someone so young so ready to kill?_

"You can put the swords down, I'm here to help."

"BULLSHIT! _He _sent you, and you're going to tell me everything you know, or I'll cut your ears and nose off!"

"Fucking hell kid calm down!" He yells, "You're like ten, you shouldn't be talking like that!"

"Fuck you, you're not my dad!"

"Language!"

"Ass! Fuck! Shit!"

Samuel inhales sharply and looks at the piranha of a young girl, "Listen. My Name's Samuel Strife. I was sent by Demeter to help you get to Indianapolis or something. What's your name?"

The girl's stance falters slightly, "…My name is Meg, Meg McCaffrey."


	7. Meet the Cavemen

**A/N: Hey everybody first thing I want to do is leave a wonderful thanks of appreciation to one **_**Zandris Hugal** _**for leaving a truly wonderful review on my last story **_**Henosis. **_**They have some stories of their own and I think they'd be something worth checking out. Anyways, it wasn't super obvious last chapter… but Samuel not only is wearing a shirt Hylla tore open, but he also forgot to bring any weapons with him! These next few chapters we'll have loads of fun watching him deal with **_**that **_**little fact!**

* * *

"FUCK! FUCK-FUCKING! FUCK!"

Meg pokes the fire around with a stick and watches Samuel freak out and scream into the night sky. His shirt is ripped up and the fire casts dramatic shadows over the uncountable scares on his body, making him look like some kind of crazy barbarian wearing the shirt of some rich dude he murdered.

"You, uh, doing okay, crazy dude?"

Samuel's wild eyes snap to her, causing Meg to flinch from the crazed look in his blood-red eyes. He tugs at his hair and screams into the wind.

"I FORGOT EVERYTHING! MY GUN! MY SWORD! EVEN A REGULAR FUCKING SHIRT!"

Meg raises an eyebrow at him, "Uh huh… you're _sure _you're the one Mom sent?"

Samuel plops down onto a log and cups his face with his hands, nodding numbly as she watches along. Meg opens a bag of chips and munches on them, crunching them loudly and annoying Samuel.

He slowly slides his hands down from his face and glares at Meg, "…Can you stop?"

She pauses, then slowly crunches her chip loudly, chewing a few times and swallowing.

"No," She continues eating her chips, "Soooo… my Mom sent you?"

"You're Demeter's kid? Guess I can see it, you have the same eyes. Same shit attitude too!"

Meg rolls her eyes and goes back to poking the fire with a stick, "…What's she like?"

"What?"

"My mom… Demeter, what's she like?"

Samuel grimaces, Meg gives him a curious look, "Frick dude, she's kind of a bitch."

Something rustles out in the corn field. Samuel cooly peeks behind him and holds a hand up to calm Meg down. She nods slowly and starts tending the fire as normal.

"…She cursed me. Granted I did summon spirits to attack her, but she insulted my wife! What kind of man would I be to let that slide without doing something?!"

"A smart one?"

Samuel glares at her, "…SHUT UP!"

Meg rolls her eyes and continues playing with the fire. Samuel sighs stares into the dancing flames, letting himself get lost in his thoughts.

He's spent his entire life thus far getting by with his emotions; his anger, his wrath, they're important parts to his character. Where would he be without them? Samuel expects he'd be dead if it wasn't for them, but that's in the past now.

At many moments in the past week alone Hylla's snapped rather furiously at Samuel, telling him he needs to chill out and stop reacting so violently, _especially _at gods and goddesses.

Looking back on it, shooting his aunt Mori in the head _might've _been an overreaction… Okay, so murdering his long-lost auntie is pretty fucked up, he'll admit to that. Good thing she's immortal, right?

…Samuel doesn't want to think about how he would feel if she _wasn't_. He's… already killed his family before.

His stomach churls.

Yeah, best not open up _that _bag of emotions!

Then what about Samson? His eccentric godfather and also an apparent god? Well, just with Mori he's, at this point, just people he doesn't like and happens to know. If he's being honest, both of them could vanish from his life and he'd be quite happy with it. Immortals are trouble, the less around the better.

That leaves only one person left. His love, his life, his queen, Hylla.

Well, he'd do anything and everything for her. She's currently the closest person in Samuel's life that's actually hung around for a long time. He's met his mom, Eris, many times, but she's the goddess of Strife. She's busy all the time and is forbidden from frequent visits. He loves her with all her heart, but she's not Hylla. No one can ever be.

Samuel sighs and looks up at the stars.

Hylla's usually been the one that tempers his violent reactions, the one to help handle his incredibly violent tendencies. But… is that fair for her? For her to be the _only one _trying? No, it totally isn't.

It's about damn time Samuel starts controlling his emotions, harnessing them rather than being influenced by them.

For Hylla, he'd do everything possible to keep her alive and healthy and give her the future she deserves.

* * *

The rustling they heard earlier in the fields subsided long ago. Samuel is still on edge, but he decided to pass the time with Meg and discuss her apparent 'mission'.

"So…Apollo s your… slave?"

She beams a bright smile, "Yup! He has to do _anything _I say!"

Samuel moves his hair about with his thumb, "Boy, guess it's a good thing you're young, then? An older girl might've…"

"Might've what?"

"Nothing, forget about. So, why'd you ditch him, then? Aren't you on some super dangerous and life altering quest to save the world or something?"

"Yeah I…" She blushes in embarrassment, "I got a little emotional. Turns out my stepdad killed my real dad and was pretending someone else did it."

"Damn… that's pretty fucked up!"

"Language!"

"Oh my-You said worse like five minutes ago!"

"Yeah, but I'm a child! It's endearing!"

Samuel rolls his eyes and leans forward to warm up by the fire. Without his proper clothes the chilly night in the field is almost dangerously cold. He's not sure how Meg is handling it so well, even with the fire her outfit is more designed for Summer than the chilly early Spring.

"So, what's your plan, then? You need to sneak into Indianapolis without getting caught, and some weird pseudo-god is running the place with armies of tall dudes and Blemmyae?"

"Yup!"

Samuel groans, "Ugh, fine! What've you got so far? Ideas on enemy numbers? Strategic points of interest? Hidden or poorly guarded entrances? Safe houses once we're inside?"

She stares at him blankly, slowly chewing on a chip. Samuel stares at her like she's the biggest fool in the universe and sighs.

The rustling is back, this time nearer than before. Samuel puts a hand up in a 'be cool' motion.

"_I'm going out there," _He whispers, _"Give me a sword."_

"Hell no!" Meg yells, "Get your own!"

Samuel inhales sharply and screams into the sky, "Oh my fucking-END ME!"

His wish was granted partially, as a spear finds itself embedded into his shoulder, throwing him off balance where he bashed his head against a stone in the ground. He groans a few times as his vision spins for a few seconds before darkness overcomes him.

* * *

Samuel feels like vomiting as he awakens, his shoulder throbs with a cold pain and his vision blurs and focuses in and out several times before leveling out with _only _just a splitting headache.

He looks to his left shoulder and curses as he sees fresh blood _everywhere_. The spear that hit him was long since removed, and obviously they weren't careful about it either as the wound is much larger than a regular pierce wound.

Thankfully it wasn't a mortal wound, and it seems to have cleanly pierced the bone. Demigods have a wonderful ability to heal even without ambrosia or nectar. Still, without either a wound like this will take weeks to fully heal.

So until he can get some, he's basically working with one arm.

The blood has already coagulated in the wound, and obviously he didn't bleed out, but he should get it covered with something quick!

It's still night time, but the warm fire has recently gone cold and his whole reason for being here has vanished too. Dammit! She must've been grabbed by whomever attacked them!

He finds the remains of his old short and quickly rips it into shreds, using his teeth to tie the strips into makeshift gauze around his wounded shoulder. He hisses as the course fabric tightens against his shoulder, but quickly ignores it as he finishes his makeshift bandages.

"Okay-okay-okay, first things first; what the fuck happened here?!"

Samuel does a quick investigation of the camp site ala Aragorn style, piecing together a vague story of what happened when he was knocked out.

"A big group came through here, maybe twenty men. She was overwhelmed but managed to get one pretty good."

He feels a patch of blood on the grass, blood that isn't his, and hopefully not hers either.

"Either he lived or they took the body with them, also taking her when they finally got her. Tracks lead west… straight for Indianapolis."

He curses to himself and follows the tracks through the corn field. Thankfully the large group just trampled straight through the field so follow the toppled path was literally as easy as a light job.

Eventually after some number of minutes the crop field stops at a fence leading into a field of grass. He hops the fence with some difficulty and follows the trampled grass through the field. He comes to the top of a small hill and peeks over the edge.

Maybe half a mile down the way he sees a large light, the faint outline of smoke clashing against the dark sky.

"That's where they are. Well, guess it's time to sneak."

Unfortunate for him, his pale skin clashes against the darkness, without his jacket his ability to blend with the shadows is severely limited.

He comes around a bend covered with trees and shrubbery, carefully maneuvering through them as the light of a large bonfire peeks through the innumerable trees.

Curiously enough, he can't hear any voices or chatter. There's some grunting, but it's odd since they sound, well… _human._

Like dudes grunting at the gym. Usually if something grunts around a demigod it's a monster or some horrible eldritch abomination.

So hearing a bunch of dudes grunting in the middle of nowhere around a fire brings up… _different _thoughts about what's going on. He holds his breath and peaks over a bush, and to his relief, Meg is tied up harmlessly to a tree not far from the fire. The men have no interest in her whatsoever, and instead go about their business setting up a camping site.

_Also _quite thankfully the twenty dudes aren't gangbanging in the woods. The men are… curious to say the least. Each stands roughly seven foot tall, muscles are _huge _and well defined, tribalistic tattoos covering their exposed flesh while their clothes are simple furs, hunter-gatherer style.

Just from the sheer _size _of them, Samson guesses these guys to be one thing.

_Fucking caveme- _"LET ME GO YOU GERMANUS BASTARDS! DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! THE BEAST WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER!"

Okay, so not cavemen, but Germans? Kinda rude, maybe racist, but whatever. So at least they're human even if they look like Laistrygonians.

Now, how is he going to go about this? He's outnumbered by nineteen, and even if he saves Meg it's still going to be a hairy fight!

…This goes against all his instincts, but maybe it's best if he just gets Meg and runs? Samuel is good with summoning Phonois but he's no necromancer, that title goes to the Hecate kids.

On a good day he can summon just over a half dozen spirits, more if he's losing control over his emotions but that can be a death sentence for demigods. Especially with another's life on the line. He doubts Demeter won't live up to her promise of using him as fertilizer if he gets Meg killed!

The tree she's tied up to is pretty close to his cover, but all of the Germani are still up and about but based on their actions this is a camp they're resting at for the night. Then it's time to play the waiting game.

He turns to hide deeper in the small batch of trees when his head hits something surprisingly hard. He winces and rubs his head- what the hell was that? A freaking rock or something?!

Slowly he trails his eyes up what he rammed his head into. Rock hard abs, impressive pecks, wide shoulders and straining muscles. All leading seven feet up to the impressive beard of a man with piercing eyes.

"Oh, for the love of-"

The _man _kicks him in the chest, sending him flying into the fire. Samuel's skin hisses from the heat and he quickly jumps off the logs before his skin burns or his pants catch fire.

Meg sighs as she sees Samuel quickly getting surrounded by all the men, each brandishing a sword or a spear at him as he taunts insults and bats their weapons away like a cornered animal.

"Wonderful rescue operation. How'd the _four hours _of planning treat you?"

"HEY! SHUT UP! I WAS KNOCKED OUT, OKAY?!"

She rolls her eyes and goes limp against the tree, accepting that he's dead and she'll be sent back to Nero.

The Germani surrounding Samuel all squint and grunt at him as he hisses like a stray cat. Is he… a boy? But what boy has muscles like _that? _A small man, maybe? A runt of the litter?

Being giant men essentially, the Germani are befuddled by what looks like a tiny man (compared to them, at least.). After their long and grunt-conversation, the Germani decide Samuel must be a lost boy, maybe kicked out of one of the rival tribes, and decide he's fit enough to join their war party.

The leader of the group, an eight-foot Germanus with wicked tattoos covering his face, approaches Samuel and laughs, ruffling his hair like his father used to when he was young and would throw a temper tantrum.

"Uh… what?"

"They think you're a boy!" Meg yells over the laughing men, "They're adopting you like a lost dog or something!"

"How do you know that?!"

"They're Germani! They're _literally _simple people! They don't talk, everything is grunts and shows of action for communication! Play along!"

Samuel groans and raises his good arm in the air, "Ugh! Oof! Gah!"

The men cheer even louder. He speaks their language! Samuel forces down the feeling of his embarrassment and keeps grunting a bullshit conversation with the barbarians.

* * *

"Are you going to even _try _to save me?"

"Quiet!" Samson hisses, "I'm trying to convince them to let me take night watch while they sleep!"

"_How _are you doing that?! They literally grunt! How the Hades can you make a request!"

Samuel scoffs, "It's a beautiful language full of advanced and intricate operations! If you weren't so bigoted you'd realize they're just as advanced as modern culture!"

A Germanus walks passed without so much as a scrap of fur to cover his ass. He barely walks behind a bush before squatting down and doing his humanly business.

Meg only raises a single eyebrow. Samuel looks away, "Okay… so _maybe _I'm just winging it and hoping for the best!"

"Uh huh, that a fact?"

"Look, just shut up and let me figure out a plan!"

She rolls her eyes and goes limp, thanking the savages that they know how to tie a comfortable knot and closes her eyes as she takes a nice nap.

Samuel goes back to grunting what must be the greatest legend ever to the twenty _enamored _giants of men listening intently to… something. His story somehow runs for an hour until the men throw their hands up in cheer and bust out kegs full of the most disgusting smelling drink Samuel's ever had the displeasure to come across.

The fill wooden jugs up of the putrid yellow drink and happily slurp away at the beverage. They force a massive hug in Samuel's hand and wait for him to try. Samuel sighs lightly and throws the drink back, grimacing the entire time as the beverage burns the entire way down his throat.

His audience laughs and throws theirs back too, quickly becoming drunk and dancing around the fire with one another.

Samuel plays along for a few minutes before sneaking away from the weird conga line and beelining it for the pile of weapons they tossed off to the side.

One of the Germani grunts loudly and points at Samuel. The Son of Eris curses and tosses the first weapon handle he grabs. The man who pointed at him stills as a large sword pierces his face, the point of the weapon poking through the back of his skull.

Instantly the dancing stops as the Germani carefully watch their comrade. The leader pokes the man with a sword in his face and watches him fall backwards dead. Slowly the nineteen surviving barbarians turn and look at Samuel.

"Guess it's time to do this the hard way." Samuel snaps his fingers, and blood red puddles suddenly form in the ground. Around him half a dozen transparent figures emerge from the blotches, liquid like blood leaking down their bodies and dripping off their knife-like fingers.

The gangly spirits leer at the barbarians with hollow eyes, unnaturally silent as they wait for their master to make his command.

"Kill."

Like the gates of hell unleashed the spirits 'scream' and launch themselves at the group. Their claws rip into the men with ferocity like wolves among sheep, and in the first wave they tear through six of the men before the rest turn the charge back, fighting with their bare hands surprisingly effectively against the spirits.

Samuel quickly finds Meg's rings and idly grabs the handle of some stray weapon for himself and breaks for Meg. She blinks herself awake and takes in the sight before her. Burly men covered with blood and gashes facing off against haunting spirits vaguely looking like people.

Gods. What a way to wake up.

Meg starts squirming viciously as she sees the spirts losing ground. She doesn't squirm for long when she sees Sam coming up to her with an old war scythe. Quickly he cuts the ropes with his weapon and hands Meg her twin rings.

"Sam, what's the plan!"

"Kill em' and run!"

Samuel jumps in to help his summoned spirits slaughter the disarmed Germani. Meg freezes in place as she watches the carnage take place before her. Blood and gore fly into the air, men scream bloody hell as their essence spills out onto the ground beneath their feet.

It's… interesting, mesmerizing even. Never before has she seen so much-much… _carnage. _She's seen people get shot before, back when she roamed the streets in New York. But this? This is different. To her, this is a _war._

Samuel spins his weird spear weapon around and stabs a Germani in the gut, roaring at the poor fool as he twists the blade and rips it out. Blood paints the ground as the man loses his entrails and bleeds to death on the ground.

Before the man can, however, Samuel spins his weapon and stabs the spear straight through his sternum, slicing part of the heart and piercing the dirt beneath him.

His buddy roars and rears back, punching Samuel square across the face. His red eyes shine with fury and he kicks the man in the groin. It _crunches _something nasty and the man crashes to the ground in pain.

Samuel rips the blade free and slashes the fool across the throat. His instincts flare up and he reflexively slashes the blade. He gets a random Germanus across the length of his torso and up across his face. The man dies quickly but Samuel doesn't notice, he's too busy working onto the next barbarian.

With the help of his Phonois Samuel pushes the surviving dozen or so Germanu out into the fields. The tattooed leader scowls and waves at his comrades. They nod and turn tail, running into the field and vanishing into the night.

Slowly the spirits of vengeance vanish into nothingness. Samuel pants a few times and wipes a line of blood from his mouth. He supports himself with the staff of the scythe and turns back to Meg.

"Where,-" He pants, "-Where the Hades were _you?!"_

She flinches as she meets the monster's eyes. She's seen eyes like that before, in the eyes of her… _stepfather_, another monster.

Following her sense of logic, Meg turns right around and bolts, vanishing into the night. Samuel blinks a few times and goes to follow when he feels a sudden hollow pain in his heart.

He collapses to the ground, writhing in pain as he feels his limbs go numb. Slowly his vision starts going white and in his last moments of consciousness he gets a quick flashback something Mori said.

"_Sufficient stress could send his body into shock! He has to be careful to avoid sufficient pain or he could seize."_


	8. Need for Sleep

**A/N: Hey guys, another chapter here. This one will wrap up Samuel's time with Meg, and after that we'll switch back to what Samson's been up to the entire time. Not much else to say, hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

White.

"_-a-"_

Is this death?

"_S-m!"_

Isn't there supposed to be an island? Well, this is peaceful, anyways. No pain, no stimulus. Nothing.

"_SAM!"_

Samuel's sits up with a fierce gasp, desperately breathing in and out as a way to calm his mind. Meg caps her bottle of nectar and sets it down. While the Son of Eris nearly hyperventilates she looks away, finding it hard to meet his eyes anymore.

Back then, back during the _murder _Samuel scared her, more than she's ever been before. He was a beast, and not in the good way. Wild, untamed, not even human anymore. She felt like he was going to jump her and start ripping her to pieces, and that same emotion is still there.

It's why she left but… something told her she needed to go back. Some desperate, gut feeling saying she shouldn't leave him alone.

Against all logic, she went back. That's when she came across him seizing uncontrollably on the ground. Seeing something like that still leaves an uneasiness in her stomach. Just… watching a man's body attack itself like that isn't something she'll ever be able to forget.

It's awful.

She fed him her last bunch of nectar and waited, hoping the magical liquid would _somehow _work for something like this. To her relief, it did. After about an hour his shakes settled down before disappearing completely, the wound hidden behind the fabric on his shoulder likely mending too.

About half an hour after that he finally woke up. He scared the living daylights out of her when she did, but he seemed to be fine enough.

His hands shake pretty violently, and his face contorts in pain as he reaches into his pocket and grabs a small vial of liquid. He barely takes a sip when he caps it immediately and sighs in relief.

"Aaah, that hits the spot!" Meg raises a curious eyebrow, "Hmm? Oh, magical muscle relaxer. Helps with the curse your ma' gave me. This stuff _messes _you up, dude!"

Meg huffs and sits down on a nearby log, crossing her arms and looking away. Samuel glances at her and slowly starts removing his makeshift bandage.

He winces as he removes the strip over the wound and checks it out. The flesh is raw and odd to the touch, but a thin layer of skin has covered the new wound. Thankfully with the effects of the potion he can't feel the skin tingling.

Samuel finds a log to sit on opposite of Meg, "So, what's your deal?"

She glances at him and goes back to looking elsewhere, "…"

"Look, I've learned holding crap in doesn't help anyone. Best lay it out right here and now, no hands pulled back."

"…You're a monster."

Samuel gives her a curious look. She continues, "You're wild, crazy, _a murderer. _I don't want to be around you anymore, I don't feel _safe _around you anymore. I feel like you're going to kill me for no reason, and I think you absolutely will. It doesn't feel like you care about life, I feel like you're only concerned about my safety because you're afraid of my mom."

He's silent for a moment. Is that how… people see him? As a wild _(wolf)_beast? He… supposes it's fair, he's sociopathic and well endowed with a blood lust. As a Child of Eris, his alignment has and will always be with darker powers. War. Death. Blood. Emotion. Samuel basks in these elements, it's his nature to.

Meg comes from Demeter, an Olympian, and while she's cruel, she doesn't cause wars purely for the sake of doing it. Eris and Ares cause wars, and as such their offspring revel in it. They say you'll truly know what your comrades are like when you see them on the battlefield.

As revealed to Meg, Samuel is a son of war. He's at his truest form when taking the lives of others, and to a child, he's a _monster._

"Don't be ridiculous, I care about your life because you're a _child. _I was twelve once too, dealing with all the hardships in a world I couldn't understand. Your Mom sent me here, but it was me that accepted the responsibility to get you where you need. You're right when you say I'm a monster, but I'm a monster who fights _real _monsters. Grab the stuff you'll need from around here, we need to be gone before the rest of the Germans come back."

Meg is silent and turns around, "…They're called _Germani._"

* * *

"There it is, Indianapolis."

Samuel points to the city lights from atop the hill he stands on. Miles across empty field of grass the radiant lights of a large city shine like a beacon in the night. Just over the Horizon the first peeking lights of the sun can be seen. Soon morning will be upon them.

"Should we try and go there now, and get there by morning? Or should we wait for night?"

Samuel thinks on it. Demeter said he has a couple days before her curse kills him, and by tomorrow that would be the second day.

But… is it wise to try and sneak into a guarded city in the morning?

"Let's wait for night. We'll use the cover of darkness to our advantage, otherwise we'd have no way to cover our tracks."

Meg nods and sets her pack down. Samuel moves his supplies to the cover of a small batch of trees. They set up their camp site and settle down, idly letting the day pass as they wait for night to come.

"So, what's your story?" Meg asks. Samuel looks at her, "What do you mean?"

"Like how'd you come to this? What'd you do to piss off my mom?"

Samuel grimaces, "Oh right, that. Well, I guess it's actually a pretty long story. I'll abridge for sanity's sake but rounded down me and this other guy pissed off the Olympians, so they've turned us into errand boys. We've gotta do some bullshit task for each one and hopefully by the end they'll fuck off and leave me alone."

"There's another guy?" Meg tilts her head, "Where's he at?"

"Probably at my house. I kinda… forgot to grab some back up when I left with your mom."

"…Are you okay?"

"SHUT UP! I was high on potions, okay?! My decision-making skills were a little messed up!"

Meg snorts and rolls her eyes, "Tell me about the other guy. Is he like you? Or does he plan his actions?"

Samuel glares at her, causing another eyeroll. She wants to know about Samson? Well, Samuel can't say much and really doesn't want to, but if it passes the time then why not?

"He's my godfather, actually. He was pals with my dad back in the day and something happened or whatever. Next thing I know he shows up at my door, immortal and asking for a relationship. Well, sucks for him but that ain't happening! He was never around for my entire life. Heck, I didn't even know he existed until he just showed up!"

"Huh, pretty crazy," Meg says, "What was the reason he never showed up? Was he in prison or something?"

"What? No he wasn't in jail, he was locked inside of a magic amulet or something. I don't know, I haven't asked him his whole story."

"Well, this sounds pretty basic, but maybe you should? It kinda sounds like you're causing a scene without knowing the whole story. My… stepdad told me to save emotions until you know the whole story, otherwise you waste energy and make mistakes. He says in the end things are worse than they were before."

Samuel is quiet for a minute. He… supposes she has a good point. Maybe he should give Samson a chance to explain himself.

Thoughts of his youth flow into his mind. He remembers one of the few times his father was tender with him. As a young child Samuel was afraid of lightning, maybe it was a subconscious fear of Zeus? Who knows, either way he would be frightened by it and his father would comfort him, allowing his son to fall asleep in his arms until the storm passed.

"_It's just lightning, Sam, we're safe in here, it can't hurt you."_

"_B-but what if it blows the house up?! Where would we go?!"_

_Max laugh heartedly, "We're born from wealth, Sam, and I've got plenty of money saved away. Anything that happens I'll take care of it, and you too. Besides, if something truly bad does happen, well I know of one person who'd make sure you go somewhere safe. She's… never mind her, close your eyes and go to sleep. I've got you."_

Fury suddenly rages in Samuel's heart. Fury at Samson and Mori for failing to save his father, fury at them for failing to save _him. _What kind of man would Samuel be if he wasn't thrown to the wolves?! How different could things have been had they just _cared _at all?!

No, Samuel refuses to forgive them! They let his father die! They let Samuel suffer alone in the cruel world and become a monster! At any time they could've come and helped out! Maybe his brother, Jackson would be alive! Maybe Mark would be here by his side!

All… all of his old friends are dead or don't talk to him anymore. Samuel's violent, very violent with a quirk of shooting people who piss him off. Eventually… they just got tired and left him behind. His anger, the violence, he wasn't good for them.

He only has his siblings and Hylla now, a far cry from the innumerable people he grew up with at camp.

Now that he's started thinking about it. For the first time in a long time, Samuel feels truly _alone._

* * *

Meg awakens to the fate beeping of an alarm. She groans and rubs her eyes, sniffling her nose as her allergies act up. She paws at her nose from the uncomfortable feeling and digs around for something to use as a handkerchief.

She grabs an old shred of cloth Samuel brought and sneezes into it. Instantly relief fills her and she smiles satisfied. Meg looks around their campsite and sees that night has finally arrived. The waning gibbous hangs high in the sky, dots of white light dancing with it in the blackened sky.

"Sam, wake up. It's night."

He groans and sits up, rubbing his heavy eyes, "Ugh, let's get going. I want this done so I can go home already!"

Meg rolls her eyes and checks her keyitems. Twin sword rings? Check. Glasses? Check. Clothes? Check. Well that's her roll call. Samuel's is even simpler since he's basically wearing no clothes.

The city is maybe a few miles walk from their location, and within an hour they managed to reach the city limits without any incident.

Maybe the Germani left? Possible. They did leave all of their weapons and supplies behind when they fled, likely they ran away to some hidden place and would return later after Samuel and Meg left. That gives them time to get a head start, but still not that much time.

By tomorrow Samuel's curse is likely to kill him. He needs to get her back to Apollo and _now_ before it's too late!

As they approach the city on a small road Samuel pulls Meg off to the side and behind a roadside powerbox.

He points at a couple of police cruiser situated farther down the road waiting off to the sides. Traffic goes past them no problem, but Samuel's seen a trap like this before.

"Look, the police are Blemmyae. You can see how their heads look a little off. Let's go in by those building over there. We'll go in between the alley ways and out of sight. Where would Apollo be here?"

Meg thinks on it for a few seconds, "I… had a dream I guess. Apollo should be near the zoo this time of night I think. Just get me there and everything should be fine. Demeter would probably be happy with that."

Samuel nods and starts moving through the shadows, making a wide arc around the parked police cars coming around the back of buildings, Meg right behind him. If Samuel remembers, the Zoo should be alongside the White River that runs through part of the city. They've come from east of the city, so they just have to travel west until they hit the river and follow it South to find the Zoo.

Despite what it may seem, sneaking around a city in the dark is actually pretty easy so long as you stick to the maze of alleys.

With surprising skill Samuel navigates the unknown city alleys like a native. Meg lived on the streets for years and she still struggled trying to navigate New York's alleys!

"How do you know how to get around like this?! Were you homeless too?"

"Technically yes, but I never lived on the streets. The further west you go the better city layouts get. Indianapolis is relatively new, so the streets were actually _planned _instead of evolving like they do in New York. Everything is uniform and neat relatively, means all you have to do is go in one direction continuously and you'll end up at the other end of the city without having to turn. I'm looking for a river… which I can see right there!"

They cross the street and stand on an overhanging sidewalk that overlooks the White River. Samuel looks down the river and see a large break in cityscape. There's the zoo!

"There, that has to be it. We'll find a bridge to cross and you can meet up with Apollo."

"Apollo? Oh, you wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Samuel and Meg spin around and face a female police officer. The officer's smile is wide and unnerving, almost like a dolls.

"I'm looking for him. Would you be a dear and repeat what you said, please?"

Her smile never changed, even as she talked. The muscles in her cheeks never did either, and her expression stayed the same, unnerving grin.

"_Blemmyae," _Samuel whispers, _"Stay cool and follow my lead."_

"Sorry miss, but I think you misheard me. We were actually talking about our friend…"

"Amala!" Meg yells, "Our friend Amala was meeting us at the zoo! We were just chatting about her, that's all miss."

"Oh, that's disappointing," The officer says, "I really don't like liars. Guess I should call this in, you're a wanted girl after all. All available units please respond, we have a murder suspect sight at West Michigan and North White-"

Instantly Samuel stabs the Blemmyae in the center of her chest, aiming for the face hidden behind the uniform. Quickly the monster turns into dust, only leaving her radio behind.

"We need to go! I have no clue if the call got through or not!"

"_All available units please respond! Potential officer down at West Michigan and North White! All units respond potential officer down!"_

The radio in the dust calls out over the silent night. Samuel curses and kicks it into the river. Meg grabs her hair and starts freaking out.

"Ohmygod-Ohmygod! I can't go to jail yet! Samuel, what are we going to do?!"

He sighs and digs through the dust, pulling out a set of car keys, "…Run for the zoo. I'll draw them away."

"Wait," She says, eyes wide, "You'll die if they catch you!"

Samuel spins the keys around his finger and smirks, "Who says they can catch me?"

* * *

The police cruiser honks softly as Samuel presses the key fob. He admires the car for a second and feels the shiny hood. A Two thousand and eleven Charger, custom built and upgraded for speed and durability. Any car collector would _kill _to have upgrades like that in their custom rides!

Good thing for Samuel, he's going to need all the speed he can get. He can already hear dozens of police sirens flocking to his location. Good, he needs them after him, not Meg.

He gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine. The beast of a car _roars _to life and hums, the car lightly shaking from the power of the engine like it's excited or something.

Samuel grips the steering wheel and looks into the rearview mirror. Down the street he can see the lights of nearly a dozen police cruisers hauling ass towards him. He smirks, time to get this show on the road.

Samuel floors the gas and the breaks, smoke flying from the tires as he spins the steering wheel as far as he can left. His foot comes off the breaks and his cruiser spins around with a piercing _screech _and takes off the road straight at the coming police.

He roars passed the officers, signaling to them he's not one of theirs. The line of cruisers breaks harshly and spin around, following Samuel on a high-speed pursuit.

Thankfully traffic in the city is lighter at night, but Samuel still finds himself weaving in and out of cars as he races down the city streets, a line of police right on his tail. He may have side-swept a few people too, who knows?

A police cruiser suddenly comes around the corner and Samuel curses and hits the breaks. The cruiser drags along the street and races furiously at Samuel. He shifts gears and hits the gas and breaks. He waits for the right moment and lets go. His car lurches forward at insane speeds, just barely scrapping the charging car and racing down the street.

He glances in the mirror and sees the car he dodged rammed straight into one of the dozen or so chasing him from behind. He cheers at the temporary distraction and starts scanning the road signs, looking for an entrance to the highway.

"C'mon-C'mon! There! 70 West!"

Samuel takes the entrance onto the highway and tears down the road, dodging cars and hoping to put enough distance between him and the police. He checks the mirror and smiles when he sees nothing behind him, when suddenly a bright light flashes onto the car from above.

"_Pull over! Suspect in the stolen Police Cruiser! Pull over now or we will open fire!"_

They're just bluffing, now ay they'd do that on a highway! He screams as several high powered crash into his car, destroying the windows and sending glass everywhere.

He curses as he momentarily loses control, desperately trying to control the swerving car. He curses and looks up just in time to see the back end of a semi-truck zooming after him.

At the last second, he swerves left. A decision that would save his life.

* * *

Ringing pierces Samuel's ears, his chest hurts like and his face feels like it's on fire. He groans as his body aches in horrible pain, but pain is better than not feeling anything at all. That would be _even worse._

Samuel groggily feels around for his seat belt and clicks the button. Instantly he falls forward, face smashing into the remains of the steering wheel. Something whirls overhead, and he feels a rush of adrenaline coursing through his body.

Light fills the cabin of his car and he _screams _as he forces his body out of the car. He idly grabs something metal and uses it to stand himself up.

The helicopter hovers overhead and flashes its light, showing Samuel a huge pileup on the highway. By turning left, Samuel spun out and smashed his car into the back of the semi, lost much of the momentum he had and evened out in the middle of the road.

Unfortunate for him, he was smashed by _another _car on the highway. It clipped the edge of his vehicle and threw him to the side of the bridge. From there more cars freaked out and smashed into each other. On the plus side they formed a barricade keeping more police from coming the right way down the highway.

The downside? There's a thirty-car pileup on the highway and he caused it.

Samuel looks over the railing on the bride and sees it's hanging over a roaring river. He sighs and looks up at the helicopter hovering over him. Very clearly Blemmyae pilot and gun it what that they have no heads or anything.

The gunner aims right for him and Samuel quickly throws himself over the railing and into the water.

"_Hylla… Please forgive if I don't come back home."_

Sudden cold overwhelms him, his sense of direction becoming unrecognizable. What's up, what's down? Water rushes into his mouth and he gags violently, forcing even more water into his lungs.

Before he could fully blackout, he's thrown from the water and crashes into something course. He coughs violently, throwing the water from his lungs as he pulls himself further up the…sand?

He looks around and spots a familiar beach.

"This is… Camp Halfblood?"

How did he end up here?

"I see you've succeeded? How wonderful. As promised I'll remove your curse."

Samuel turns and sees Demeter leering over him. She snaps his fingers and feels searing pain attacking his skin. He looks at the scars on his body and sees them slowly erasing themselves from his flesh. Minutes pass and all but two remain, each on a forearm.

"Jackson…Mark… The brother I killed, and the friend I let die… Fitting, the two that hit the hardest are left as a message."

"Correct. Consider my trial completed. I suppose… I should thank you. Meg is special to me, one of my favorites. Oh, and you're welcome, by the way. I was feeling nice so give me an extra sacrifice for saving you from the river."

Samuel groans and flops onto his back on the beach, "Yeah… sure thing."


	9. Shopping for Love

**A/N: Time for the next chapter. This is gonna be a fun one, a real blast to the past for Samson. Hope all of my old fans from Henosis remember the name Katsuhiro, because that's going to be coming back in the next chapter here.**

* * *

"I'm not sure, I never really had a brother like that... No, you can't have the gun back!.. _You shot someone in the leg! _Of course you're not getting back… YES I'M SURE!... Okay, love you too, have a nice day."

Samson sighs and hangs the phone back on the wall and sets himself down on the couch across from Mori. She glances at him from the top of her novel and raises an eyebrow

"What's up?"

"Hmm? Oh, I just got a call from Bianca. Apparently, she's having brother problems. Also, she wants a gun."

Hylla pokes her head through the doorway, interested in the conversation. Mori stifles a laugh and leans forward.

"Wait, go back a few steps. _Who's Bianca? _And why in the world does she want a gun?!"

Samson picks up on her bemusement and recounts his story, "She's a daughter of Hades I sort of helped resurrect with Laila. After that one of the Furies basically forced me to acts as like a personal teacher or something. Still not sure why Hades is having me do it but whatever. Anyways she's got a younger brother who's now older than her since he like, didn't _die _like she did. I guess he's super edgy now and is kind of being an asshole to her, and she doesn't know what to do."

"Wait," Hylla starts, "How did she call you here, then? I thought the camps don't have phones? Also, _how _did she know the house number?"

"Apparently Chiron found Samuel last night and has been taking care of him for the day while he rests. Bianca overheard Samuel mention me and got the number from him and called with an old dial-up Chiron has in his office."

Hylla gains a dead expression on her face and rubs her temple, "By the Gods I'm going kill that boy… again. Whatever, at least I know he's safe. So about the girl, Bianca, I think? Why in the world would a _child _want a gun?"

Samson blushes and rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment, "Well… I kinda sorta gave her one as a gift, and she's really good with it too! But she accidentally shot a blonde dude in the leg so I took it from her and now she's bothering me to have it back."

The two girls in the room deadpan at him, "So it's basically your fault for not teaching her gun safety?"

"Look, alright, _maybe _it is! Back in my day we just used swords and medieval crap! Now all these kids want fancy guns and flying boats and dragons!"

"Grandpa," Mori says, putting a hand over his, "You have a magical van, a literal _warship _staffed with a crew of Naiads completely loyal to you and you're immortal. I think you've got it pretty good, yeah?"

Hylla laughs and disappears into the kitchen. Samson pouts and crosses his arm. Mori pushes his shoulder and chuckles alongside Hylla.

"I'm hungry, I'll go make myself a sandwich."

* * *

Hylla glances over her shoulder as Mori walks into the kitchen. She turns around and puts the last finishing touches on her expertly crafted sandwich, never mind that it's half a second away from becoming too soggy with Mayonnaise.

"Want me to leave the stuff out?"

"Yes please!"

Hylla scooches over to the pantry and digs around for a drink for herself while Mori starts making her own food.

Mori, to Hylla, is… kind of an odd person. She seems perfectly fine on the outside, and her conversations with the blonde have always been fairly straightforward and enjoyable, but there feels like there's something _more _to her than a simple immortal witch.

One is the odd aura that surrounds her. At times Hylla feels like something is crawling under her skin when she's alone with Mori, like some sort of being is trying to claw its way into her mind. Then, as soon as Samson enters the room with her, that pervasive feeling diminishes. Hylla can still feels its presence, but something more _soothing _from Samson drowns it out.

If the Queen of the Amazons is being honest, she doesn't fully trust either of them for that reason and then some. She's not _distrustful _per se, but she sure as heck will keep an eye on both. Who knows what trouble an immortal can bring around without even trying?

"So, Mori, mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure!" She says cheerfully, "Lay em' on me."

"What is your relationship with Samson? I know you're married but I'd like the full story on how you two met and where you're at as a couple."

Mori's cheerful attitude faulters for a second, a larger crack forming in her faux masquerade. She quickly covers it up and tries her best to sound cheerful and care free.

"Oh… Well, I guess we first met when we were seven at Camp Half Blood. My father flew me there from my home town Husavik in Iceland and I've been here in the states ever since. Samson got there maybe a month or so after I did and we became fast friends. We were best friends for the next ten or so years until he helped me out with… a personal issue. I was always smitten with him, but a brush with death made me realize I couldn't let the opportunity for a relationship with him vanish. Both of us had a limited lifespan and I knew I didn't want to waste the chance for love, even if we would be dead in the next few years. I kinda maybe sorta seduced him and from then on we were boyfriend and girlfriend."

Hylla blinks a few times. That's just the story of how they got together, not even how they married, and it's already a ridiculously crazy story. She knows she shouldn't pry, especially since Mori seems a little… broken? Maybe? She picked up a hint of devastation in her tone. Mori is ashamed of something and it's eating her up inside.

"After that I helped Samson out for a few years with some personal quests he was going on. Towards the end of our final allowed year at Camp Half Blood Samson asked me to marry him."

She holds up a hand and shows her wedding band. A silvery metal that shines like starlight, the most beautiful diamond cut like a ruby is inlaid in the band, a white jewel with the same luminous quality of the moon.

Hylla can't help herself but be enchanted with it, the sheer beauty and mysticism of the simple wedding ring shining with an unnatural sense of radiance.

"Samson made this. Athena gave him a chunk of the most precious natural diamond in the world and he painstakingly cut it down into our rings. We were happily wed for close to a year when… _it _happened. I still don't know the full story, but Athena locked him inside of his magic amulet and let the world, me included, think he was dead. I was… heartbroken and alone, afraid of I would never see him again. For years I tried summoning his soul from Elysium until I realized he _wasn't _there! So, I ate an Apple of Immortality he stole from the Hesperides and dedicated my immortal life to trying to find where in the world he was imprisoned."

She takes a shaky breath, almost Hyperventilating as she dregs up the darkest memories of her tale. A memory of fire and pain, of darkness, despair, and hatred. Curse the dead Titan for everything she's done!

"I… journeyed into Tartarus to throw myself into the river Acheron. I thought I was too weak and desired greater power to help me in my search for my lost love. Like the Styx, Acheron can provide you power if you perform the correct ritual. The river granted me the body of a god, supreme strength, regeneration, beauty, it was all mine as a reward, but something unexpected happened. The dying spirit of a forgotten Titan joined me in the river and corrupted my mind while I was weak from the pain. It drove me insane and the spirit used that to force me to do… dark things. Long story short my husband was freed from his prison after forty-two years, but the spirit convinced me he was an illusion sent to torment me. I did horrible things to him, borderline torture, but he never gave up and exorcised the spirit from me. I just… don't know why he's forgiven me, but I can tell he's still warry because of what I've done. We're immortal and married and I know that'll never change, but I just don't know if he sees me as the same anymore. I just-I just… I don't know what to do anymore."

Hylla… has no fucking clue how to respond to any of this. Sure, she _did _push Mori into spilling the beans so she would know more about Samson and herself, she was just unprepared for how **deep **the story was. Like, holy fuckin shit this girl has some _serious _issues!

She guesses she kind of deserves it, though. Hylla barely emotionally manipulated someone and was punished severely by having her target dump her whole life story on her.

Though, on the plus side, she did learn some valuable information about her guests. Samuel could do good with some more knowledge about his godfather and aunt.

"Well… I don't really… _know_ what to say after… all that, but I guess just talk with your man? He seems reasonable and understanding, and he's still devoted since he's here right now. I say just talk with him and work stuff out. It's pretty obvious he still gives a damn. Don't give up without even trying."

Mori turns to Hylla with faint tears in her eyes and smiles. She grabs the queen into a hug and _squeezes. _Hylla's eyes bulge and her face starts turning blue from the sheer strength of Mori's death affection.

"Awwww, thank you! I really appreciate your help!"

"_Barely… did anything!" _Hylla chokes out, _"Let…GO!"_

Mori releases Hylla and the queen collapses to the ground, weakly gasping for air. Mori kneels down and pats her.

"I'm gonna go talk with my hubby now, thanks for all your help!"

Hylla weakly flips Mori off as she skips back to the living room.

* * *

"Oh wow… Disney is _way _cooler now. I wish I was Elsa-" "SAMSON!"

Samson can't keep his scream down from the sudden outburst by his wife. She appears around the corner leading from the kitchen. Before Samson can react she pinches his arms to his sides and lifts him into the air with her incredible strength.

He goes wide-eyed in fear and confusion as Mori rattles of a string of words vaguely forming a sentence fast than he can piece together. After a few moments, he breaks her train of thought.

"Mori. MORI! Calm down and tell me what the _hell _is going on!"

She exhales deeply and meets Samson's eye with scary determination, "Samson."

"…Yes, Mori?"

"I just… want to say I'm _sorry, _for everything I've done to you. I love you more than anything, and when you're ready I think we should talk about everything that's happened. We're married, and I don't want us to fall apart after everything we've been through to come back together."

Samson… isn't sure how to describe how he feels. Overwhelmed? Underwhelmed? Sad, happy, maybe? It's complicated, man, and he just needs a break from everything to get it all figured out.

He's a desperate man. All of his family besides his mother are dead. Friends too. The only person he has left that means anything is his wife, Mori, and she involuntarily tried to kill him and mentally tortured him for months even if it wasn't of her own volition.

Samson Akira is a damaged man. By his own mother, by his friends, by his wife. He's not sure how he's lasted this long without losing it, but Samson is fairly certain his desperation is a key factor.

He's just so… lonely. Mori is the last person he has left. Does he stay because he loves her? Or is he staying because she's all he has? That answer is one Samson isn't so sure of.

"That's… thank you, Mori. I'll keep that in mind. I don't think now is a good time, but eventually. Yeah, that sounds good to me."

Samson smiles lightly, and Mori returns it. Despite everything horrible that's happened, the two of them still feel their connections to one another. It's beautiful, but maybe in the wrong way.

Slowly someone claps behind them, their voice giggling with a surrealness to them. It's…too perfect, like it was designed specifically to sound as pleasing as possible to both their ears.

Mori slowly puts Samson down and they turn and gaze upon a being that can only be described as, well, _perfect._

To Samson, her hair is light, nearly white, and her eyes are as bright green as pure emerald. Her hair perfectly framing the sides of her flawless face like a porcelain doll. She's so similar to Mori Samson can't help but feel his mind ache in confusion.

Of course, he knows only one being in the world can have an affect like this. So either this meeting is going to be something simple or maybe even fun, or just flat out awful and ends with some horrible thing happening to himself or someone he loves.

"Lady Aphrodite… how pleasant to meet you. I suppose this means you have something for me to do?"

The goddess of Beauty smiles. Samson was always an interesting story, certainly a fun one to watch play out. The Fates have had it out for him ever since he was born the 'right' by his mother, Athena.

Oh, don't give her that look. Aphrodite sees far more than people expect. What she's surprised about is how little Artemis, who has a domain over child birth, didn't realize that Samson was truly birthed by Athena. Or perhaps she does but has kept quiet about it. Maybe she'll ask her one day, just to see what drama unfolds.

"Samson, Moroiaca, darlings!" Her voice rings like the shiniest chimes in the wind, "How wonderful to meet you again! How long has it been now? Thirty years? Forty? Why last we spoke it was at the winter solstice, back when our dear Zeus still let campers visit us."

She sighs dramatically and rests a hand on her cheek, "Oh, woe is us. I would love if my dear Piper would visit me. If only he would learn from that boy Percy. Oh well. What can you do?"

"Give a shit about your kids? No more Luke's?"

Aphrodite gives Samson a deadpan glare, but he rolls his eyes. He knows Aphrodite is finicky and likely one of the most dramatic beings on the planet. Play along with her games and often times she'll be more endearing than if you resist.

It's what makes her so dangerous. Aphrodite strings you along, plays with your mind. That's what makes her so devious. She sets people up for horrible punishment and torture, or simply irreversibly changes their minds.

Either way, a meeting with her always ends in change. Be it good, bad, or a mix of both, she's representative of fate and change.

"Funny. You have a tongue like your mothers. I can see why she calls you her favorite. Truly, you're as charming as I remember."

She adopts a coy smile. Samson can't help but be reminded of the same smile he saw on Piper's face. A dangerous, predatory smile.

Aphrodite pulls a roll of paper from her cleavage and hands it to Samson. Her inhales deeply and takes the list, slightly grossed out to touch the paper. He unrolls it and looks over the list with Mori.

"…Persephone brand Mint infused topical lotion?"

Mori glances at the next one, "Ares choice War lube? Aphrodite's Top Shelf Wine? What, no condoms?"

"Of course not!" Aphrodite scoffs, "It ruins the feeling, that sweet connection of intimacy!"

Samson groans and pockets the list, "So what, I'm doing a shopping run for you? Don't you have a stockpile of stuff like this?"

"Not exactly. These are special crafted, one of a kind! I suspect my son, Eros, stole them and hid them around a few places. Not to worry, I know of the places he's hidden them. They're on the back of the list."

Mori cocks an eyebrow, "Uh huh, and you just _happen _to know where they're at?"

Aphrodite smiles sickeningly sweetly. Mori rolls her eyes and pats Samson on the shoulder.

"Shall we be off, then?"

"Hold up," Aphrodite quickly calls out, "No more than one immortal per trial. He's got to do this without your help, dearie. Instead you and miss queen passed out in the kitchen can keep me company!"

Mori's expression slowly slips, one of silent dread taking over. Samson holds back a smile and pats her on the shoulder.

"I'll bring Grapes with me as company," He leans over and whispers into her ear, _"Stay strong. She can't be that bad as company."_

"Wonderful! Technically a Karpoi counts as a pet companion, so good on you for finding a loophole. Now, chop-chop, I'd like this done soon if you would please!"

Samson suppresses a roll of his eyes and calls out through the house, "Grapes! We're going for a drive!"


	10. Love is in the Fish Factory

**A/N: It's everyone's favorite goddess. Lol, nah, but she is kind of fun to write. Aphrodite likes to play head games, even some of the best heroes underestimate her. Samson is trying to play her game, but will that be enough? Well, you'll have to read and find out. Also, make sure to remember the name Katsuhiro. It's going to become important soon enough, and then even more important later on.**

* * *

Samson, despite outward appearances, is a very proud individual. In fact, you can say everything he's done and what it's lead to has been because of his need for others to be proud of him. Especially that of his mother. Athena is a hard goddess to prove your worth to, even if you're her absolute favorite amongst all her children.

And, like many men, Samson loves cars. While he's driven only a handful, his personal customized VW Bus is his all time favorite. Custom enchanted bronze body to act as armor, an improved engine to handle the weight and allow it enhanced acceleration, enchanted wheels and suspension that can turn the van into an effective off-road vehicle via upgrades from Hephaestus campers, and the crowning ability that topples all.

The van is, in fact, also a portal to Samson's personal home hidden inside of an enchanted forest somewhere in the world even Samson himself isn't sure where.

His home, a modest French style palace Athena awarded to Samson for completing her quests decades ago, is one of the few constants he has left and the only place safe from all harm.

For most of the palace's life, only Samson and Mori called it home, even the forest surrounding them lacked any small or large game as well as any nature spirits.

However, in the past few months a few new people have moved in. Daisy, Samson's old lamia friend, and her sister, Laila, his collection of nearly a dozen Nymph nieces and their surviving Satyr slaves, and the Titaness of the Moon herself, Selene.

It's… complicated about how each and everyone of them came to be housed in Samson's home, and despite the tenseness that comes from having permanent residences in a private home, a small part of him is happy to have an interesting and diverse array for company.

Loneliness has always been a key factor in Samson's life, ever since his father died and he was left alone.

Depression aside, Samson is still stuck in with a duty for the gods. Even if Aphrodite is one of the 'lamer gods', he wants her trial done as soon as possible in a vague hope she won't have time to enact some dastardly plan to embarrass or kill him.

She's just like that. Either it's petty teenage drama, or it's someone's horrible death. What can ya' do?

"So, Grapes, tell me about yourself. How'd you end up living at a vineyard? Aren't Karpos grain spirits?"

Grapes wiggles around his car seat, trying to find a comfortable position before giving up and biting the seat belt with his sharp teeth.

"Hey-hey-hey!" Samson waves an arm at him to get him to stop biting holes in the belt, "You break it, you buy it!"

Grapes huffs and crosses his arms. Samson rolls his eyes and asks his question again. The grain/fruit spirt ponders it for a second, going over his deep and detailed history, remembering his tales of love and loss.

"Grapes!" Was his eloquent response. Samson sighs and returns his focus back to the highway.

For the past several hours Samson and his companion have been traveling northward to Maine. The first item, according to Aphrodite, is located at an old, abandoned fish factory up in northern Maine. Samson knows for sure that Aphrodite is lying through her teeth. There's no way she would just so happen to have a list with the locations of items _and _know Eros was responsible.

This is a trap. Or if it's not a trap it's a clever waste of his time. Okay, so perhaps not _clever, _but he can hardly say no to an Olympian Goddess. Even if he's technically a god himself he's closer to a strong demigod than he is even a minor God.

Britomartis could likely quickly handle his ass and she's a goddess of nets for Hera's sake! How in the world could a goddess of something lame like nets be powerful? Well, Samson can tell you stories. He met her once when he was on his honeymoon with Mori and he might've pissed her off by offhandedly calling her useless.

Well, she took offence to that, and quickly kicked both Mori and his assesses. How in the world a net can be used as a weapon he still doesn't know. He even has nightmares still.

Samson is weak, and he knows it. He's certainly powerful for a demigod, mostly thanks to his amulet, but a victory is still a victory. The opponent who's pushed him the hardest hands down is Thalia, and that's more thanks to clever planning and sportsmanship.

If she wanted she could've killed him if she went all out at the first moment. She's the Daughter of Zeus and her lightning lives up to her heritage. Though Samson can't be sure how skilled she _really _is seeing as how she's being boosted by Artemis's power.

Is it cheating if your strength was granted rather than earned? Well, ask a Child of Ares and they'll say yes, it's cheating. Samson… sort of agrees with them, a rare moment where Athena and Ares can agree.

Oh well, he knows he can at least _compete _with a Daughter of Zeus/Lieutenant of Artemis and that's more than enough to be proud of. Not many demigods can say that.

Samson and Grapes pass the border into Maine and they count the last hour or so of driving left to the factory

"Grapes?"

"Huh? Oh, well I guess I _am _a god, just not a very strong one. Or at least not yet, I hope. I… don't like being weak. It makes me feel useless. If I'm strong, then I will have no worries about protecting the ones I love. If I'm weak… then they die."

Grapes is silent.

"I can't allow myself to let anyone die again. My brothers, my friends, no one. Not again. I have the opportunity to preserve it! Everything! Everyone! I-I can save them, from everything! Including… death!"

The car becomes silent. Samson has always had a drive to do the impossible. An ambition to achieve his goals regardless of the potential backlash doing such thing might entail.

Call him a genius, call him an inventor, Samson's greatest downfall has been his thirst for achievement.

"…Looks like we're here."

Samson unbuckles himself and Grapes and opens the door for him. Grapes flutters out and hovers next to Samson as the imposing building looms over them.

Pipes bleed rust that reach high into the sky and bend around the main building. Broken windows sprinkle glass around the area and a nasty stench hovers through the air.

Despite it being cloudy and only gently windy, the stench of the abandoned building mixed in with the sea foam of the coast blends together into a stench reminiscent of a corpse.

With a lack of sunlight and a rusted out factory, the duo can't help but imagine some eldritch beast residing here.

"Whelp, let's go see what monster's we have to face."

"Grapes!"

* * *

"-and you would not _believe _how stupid she looked! I mean, _seriously _Athena? Blowing into that flute looked so dumb!"

"Ha ha ha!" Mori forces, tears already forming in her eyes. Hylla's not far behind. Slowly she's inching her way towards the pistol hidden under the lamp so she can put a bullet in her brains.

"-ther _fucker _seduced _my _Adonis! So, I had that broad Deianeira soak a robe in Nessus's blood and give it to him! Herakles dies screaming! Bastard deserved it, arrogant fool. Too bad he's a god now, Tartarus is a better place for his likes!"

"Isn't that… kinda much? Sure, he was an ass, but is _hell _really necessary?"

Aphrodite looks at her like she's an idiot. Mori sighs and leans back into the couch. Aphrodite has talked non-stop for _seven fucking hours. _She has no clue how she can do it. Mori likes talking, but for that long is just way too much. At this point she'd rather jump through the window of Hylla hadn't told her they're reinforced, bullet proof glass.

Hylla makes it to the lamp and cheer, but quickly looses her happiness as she desperately searches for the pistol. She looks over to the love goddess and grimaces as she watches her toy with the very same gun Hylla was so desperate to find.

"Oh, hello, what's this?" She looks down the barrel of the gun, "Curious little things. I remember when these were first imported from China oh so long ago. Have you ever been? Beautiful country, not too friendly to women. Oh well, Greece wasn't better, either."

She plays with the trigger and the gun goes off with a loud BANG! Unfortunately, Aphrodite _dodged _the bullet, where it harmlessly put a hug hole in the ceiling.

Hylla shakes, barely holding back her fury.

"Whoops, ha ha! So much fun! Now I can see why Ares and little Samuel love these so much. Though Ares does miss the old days. 'Swords! Spears! Axes! Iron forged!' he'd always say! Big baby more like, always complaining about people and getting petty revenge!"

It takes everything in Mori's power not to point out that Aphrodite is the status quo for petty revenge. People even now teach about the things she's done out of jealousy.

Mori glances at Hylla and watches as the queen pathetically looks depressed in her seat. An almost literal aura of despair hovering over her head.

"Now, Mori." Oh fuck, that's her, "I sense you're having some troubles right now with your hubby. Why don't you tell me about it? We're all girls here, gossip is what we do!"

"You're the Goddess of Love, shouldn't you already know everything about Samson and I?"

"Well, I do, but not as a Goddess," Aphrodite admits, "_Hera _rules over marriages, of which you two are, she has a full understanding. I only know _most _of it. Like, ninety-nine percent."

"And that's not enough?"

"Nope!"

Mori rolls her eyes. She was expecting Aphrodite to pry, the bitch. A small part of her hoped it wouldn't happen, but she has no such luck. Aphrodite wants _everything, _and Mori isn't quite sure she's ready for that.

Of course, with Aphrodite, she has no choice.

"We're… having problems. I'm not so sure Samson really loves me anymore. I can't blame him, I did horrible, awful things to him in my state of deliriousness. I'm not even sure why Zeus let me go, I'm pretty certain I was responsible for many dying in the wars against Kronos and Gaea seeing as how I targeted outside suppliers of the camps."

"You can thank Selene for that, dear, she was always a favorite of us younger gods. Such a sweet thing, I'm glad she's back."

"Yeah, I remember interacting with her a bunch after Samson regenerated."

Mori lets out a small laugh and thinks back months ago when Samson sacrificed his essence to Luna, the roman form of Selene, to free Mori from her control. That damned fool. So willing to let himself be absorbed by another more powerful being for her.

Small tears travel down her cheeks.

He's lucky Selene, his past incarnation that shared a body with him, was stronger than Luna and absorbed _her _instead. By combining her essence with Luna's, Selene was able to reform herself independent from Samson and spit him back out essentially.

Now there's a new god and a Titan running around, and Olympus was in an _uproar _when they found out. Combine that with the lack of communication with the mortal realm via Zeus's orders and bam, you've got riots on Olympus… again.

Very turbulent times, especially since Apollo is missing.

"Back you our conversation, though…" Damn!

"Samson rescued you from Luna, he slogged through many hardships to gather honor and validate his claim for a pardon for you. I saw it all, the rest of the council too. He fought tooth and nail in the Roman Arena, further allying them with their Greek comrades. He destroyed several dens of evil ran in your name and even killed his own family, granted they were mere shades of themselves. He rallied a great army and marched on your stronghold, destroying a large army of monsters and ending the threat of Luna for good. It seems it was all done for the gods. In fact, I know it was."

Mori looks down to the floor. Of course… for the gods. He always held a love for them, Samson did. Why would he bother himself much with her? She's a watch. A filthy dark mage who tormented him for months with the faces of his own dead siblings.

Everything he did, he did for _them. _So it's true, he's over her.

"Oh, don't look so pathetic, dear. It's obvious the actions were for the gods, but his choices were for you."

Mori looks to Aphrodite, tears silently falling from her eyes, "W-what do you mean? You just said he did it for Olympus!"

"His actions, yes, because he was hoping to butter us up. Samson slogged through the muck to be owed a favor. We never tasked him with ending your reign, he did that himself. By doing us a favor, he earned the right for a demand from the council. With Selene being reborn it was even easier. Ah, such devout love. A man, fighting through many hardships, suffering all the way just to earn the freedom of the woman he loves. Truly a fantastic love story, it was quite interesting to watch."

"…Heh, yeah, that's my man, alright. So willing to get himself endangered to prove something."

Mori wipes the tears from her eyes and smiles happily to herself. Of course Samson cares, why else would he put up with all the shit she threw at him? How could she be such a fool, her Samson has proven time and time again his love for her. She's not sure why she ever doubted him. Perhaps it's a byproduct of being by Aphrodite? Or perhaps being immortal changes her more than she thought.

"Thank you, my Lady, I appreciate it."

Aphrodite smiles, "Of course. After all, a good love story is one full of struggles that ends with a happy ever after."

Mori picks up on the hint. Maybe… maybe Aphrodite isn't so bad?

* * *

"I swear I'm going to kill her!"

"Grapes!" Grapes agrees, latching his jaws onto the neck of a giant badger and squeezing. Quickly blood fills his mouth and the neck bones crunch from the monstrous strength of his bite. It turns into dust quickly and grapes moves onto his next target, a small group of Stymphalian birds, though these ones are far larger than the ones Annabeth told him about. Instead this group resemble swans with dark feathers and metal beaks.

Still, the Karpos is a well-seasoned warrior among his people. He's fought great beasts from the deepest pits of Tartars to the highest peaks of the mortal world. Beast like this are insignificant. With a roar Grapes unleashes his war cry, a fierce scream heard in the nightmares of his enemies.

"GRAAAAAAAAPES!"

"Yeah, you get them little buddy!"

Samson yelps as something smashes into his chest. He's sent flying into a hollow tube, crashing through it and smacking against the far wall. It shakes from his impact, rumbling lowly as dust falls from the cielin and lands on his shoulder.

"Hey! Careful you idiot, you could bring the whole place down on our heads!"

The Giant snake across the way flicks its tongue and slithers towards him, gliding over the rubble with an uneasy smoothness. Samson feels goosebumps roll down his arms as he locks eyes with it.

"Fine, have it your way. See this spear? It was made for slicing through scales!"

The beast bares its fangs and curls up before launching itself with lightning speed like a bullet. Samson raises his free arm and activates his enchanted shield at just the right moment.

Quickly his shield appears and wedges the serpents mouth open. The snake hisses uncomfortably, poison dripping from the fangs overhanging the edge of the shield. Samson grimaces at the scent of the poison and quickly stabs his spear into the body of the serpent.

The metal glides soundly through the scales, a special feature of his spear as it was designed as a dragon slaying weapon. The serpents slit eyes tense in fury and it rears its body high into the air, tossing the shield and by extension Samson through the air.

He hits the ground with a heavy thud, but quickly brings himself back up while ignoring the pain just in time for the freight train that is a thirty-foot serpent of death to crash into his chest. Golden blood flies from his mouth alongside his breath.

The serpent's jaws crash down on his sides in a heavy death grip. Samson's eyes widen, but his body finally catches up with his mind. He drives his spear into the eye of the beast, piercing the brain cleanly and bursting out the other end of the skull.

He drops to the ground alongside the dust of the beast and grimaces at the sharp pain shooting in his ribs. Thanks to the effects _Juggernaut_, divinely enchanted silver track jacket, nothing can pierce it, but it's still cloth-like material. He can feel the full affects of any blow, meaning he bruises quite painfully rather than gaining cuts on his chest.

"Grape, how we doin', buddy?!"

"Grapes!" Grapes bites down on the body of the last Stymphalian bird, leaving only the head behind where it quickly turns to dust.

Samson exhales sharply and reaches into his pocket, gripping a silver bandana with a golden peace sign on the front. He sighs as the magical effects of his bandana wash over his body, slowly soothing the bruising in his body and healing the damage.

The next item in Samson's 'special' arsenal. _Ram_, his helmet created from a shred of the Golden Fleece of legend, carries the same healing properties of its origin piece among other powers.

Grapes flutters over next to Samson, weakly helping him rise to his feet. Samson sighs in relief and gives Grapes a loving scratch on the head. Grapes melts at the feeling and smiles happily.

Someone clears their throats above them and they quickly give the being their attention.

A man with soft-blonde hair glances lazily at them from scaffolding, his emerald eyes dull and uninterested. His pure white wings flutter lightly, angel like feathers softer than one can imagine gently dancing down to the floor. A golden bow is grasped in his gentle hands. Large, silver arrows rest in an immaculate quiver.

The being is serene, truly like an angel, but Samson grimaces. He knows who this is.

"Eros!"

Eros rolls his perfect eyes, "Ugh, you. Whatever let's just get this over with. Mother roped me into this and it's costed me my mani-pedi session!"

Samson raises an eyebrow, "Not even going to pretend Aphrodite isn't the source of this?"

"No! Why would I? I'm not one for-" He holds an arm out at the ruined factory, "-this. I'm elegant. Refined. This is peasant work."

Dust from the unstable ceiling falls onto his hand and he shakes it off like it's the vilest thing in the universe. With a man as prissy as this, it very well might be.

"Just fight me already. The sooner I'm beat the sooner I can go home."

"Fine by me. Tell me when-WHOA!"

Samson jumps back as one of the silver arrows crashes into the stone, burrowing so deep only the fletching is above ground.

"The hell-" Samson yells, "Are you doing?! Why are you trying to kill me?!"

"Duh," Eros says, thinking Samson an idiot, "That's how fights work."

Samson dodges more and more arrows, cursing as the sheer strength of the projectiles rattles the weak infrastructure of the factory even more. The metal framing groans more audibly with each and every strike of arrow.

"Dammit you fool! You'll bring the whole thing down on us!"

Eros ignores him and continues launching arrows even faster. Samson curses as he visible watches the upper floor moving unstably.

"Grapes distract him! I've got an idea!"

Grapes nods and flies up to Eros, grabbing the god's perfect hair and tugging on it like a gremlin. Eros _shrieks _the most offensive sound one has ever heard.

"LET GO YOU SIMPLETON! THAT'S THE MOST TREASURED THING IN THIS WORLD!"

Grapes laughs, actually starting to tug even harder. Samson spins his spear around in his grip and aims carefully. With a big opening, Samson tosses his spear like a javelin and hits the god right in his gut. Instantly Eros freezes, even ignoring Grapes' tugging.

Samson watches carefully as Eros leans over the edge of the scaffolding and plummets twenty feet to the ground. Eros is completely unmoving, like a dead body, but a wound like that would never kill a god, even the weakest one.

"Eros… you okay, man?"

The god yanks Samson spear out and feels his gut, hand washing over his golden blood.

"I've… never been hurt before."

Oh lord. Eros has never taken damage before? Samson hopes to every god in the world Eros will take this without freaking out.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Of course, he can't catch a break, why would he? Eros rolls around on the dirty floor, screaming a cry of bloody murder and beating his fists against the concrete. Each hit cracks the floor and shakes the foundations violently.

Samson quickly runs forward and starts wrestling with Eros, desperately trying to calm him down.

"STOP! You're bringing the whole factory down!"

Eros ignores him and continues wailing. Something loud suddenly echoes through the factory. Soon enough more banging follows, then after a fierce shaking.

"GRAPES, GET OUT," Samson screams, "THE WHOLE PLACE IS COMING DOWN!"

With a surge of adrenaline Samson gets a death grip on Eros and bolts for the entrance, debris an steel girders following him and Grapes as they feel the collapsing building.

Light shines ahead of a long hallway and Samson grabs Grapes and pumps his legs even harder than he's ever done before. With a heavy leap he tosses himself through the entranceway and crashes into the dirt outside. Dust washes over everyone as the building fully collapses in on itself.

Samson waits a few moments for the _screeching _sound of metal and stone to finally subside. He opens his eyes and coughs violently. Grapes does so too, much to Samson's relief, and so too does Eros, to his displeasure.

Said god suddenly starts violently spasming in Samson's grip.

"F-FUCK! I NEED A HOSPITAL!"

"You're a god! Just heal yourself!"

Eros ignores Samson's advice and starts going into shock. Samson freaks out and does the only thing that comes to mind.

He punches Eros as hard as possible in the face, knocking him out.

Grapes looks at Samson with wide eyes, Samson doing the same.

"Don't tell Aphrodite!"


	11. Father, Are You Proud?

**A/N: Howdy ya'll, back with another chapter. This one should be coming soon after the other, hope you guys like it. Anyways just wanted to clear some things up from last chapter. Samson and Mori definitely are having problems, that's fairly understandable. Both, obviously, are relaxed people, they'll dance around confrontation and not get angry until they explode.**

**Is that spoilers? Probably. Anyways that means you guys can look forward to a fight between two powerful immortal beings. That'll be fun. Back to it, this will be the last chapter with Grapes and Samson. Then they'll be reunited with Samuel and all the fun that entails.**

**000**

* * *

"Uh, you okay, My Lady?"

Aphrodite covers her mouth to stifle her giggles. Oh Samson, how fun it is to watch him muck things up. Poor Eros. Dear, little thing really needed to get hurt more often than he does.

"Nothing dear, nothing. Just came across an amusing thought."

Mori raises an eyebrow, but Aphrodite ignores it. The girl is powerful and wonderfully subtle when she chooses. A shame she was born from Hecate, she'd have made a powerful daughter of hers. Maybe Aphrodite will work on her some her. She'd make a wonderful handmaiden.

Hylla groans and leans back in her seat, swinging her legs up on the armrest. Aphrodite glances at her, a thousand thoughts racing through her divine mind.

The Amazon Queen, Hylla Ramirez-Arellano, an interesting queen of the female worshippers of Ares. Certainly, one to be remembered, very few queens have been sworn in at such a young age, even fewer dealt with an older queen in such brutal fashion.

Her Lover Ares would be proud. He likes his women brutal and washed in the blood of others. Hylla would be a fine priestess. Oh well, she basically is already. Perhaps she's even closer to the war gods than their own followers. A queen is more than any god could ask devotion from.

Aphrodite giggles to herself. How funny it is. The _queen _is a servant and she doesn't even realize it. When the time comes she'll be drafted into his undead army as all worthy queens before her have. Sure, she'll enjoy some time in Elysium, but her soul will always truly belong to Ares.

What a pity. Shame, really. Best she finds that out for herself. Wouldn't want to spoil the fun, now would we?

"Now, Hylla," The Queen curses. Aphrodite pretends she doesn't here it, "Why don't we go on to you next, hmm? The Son of Eris is certainly an… _interesting _choice. A psychopath? My, my, you like them dangerous and drenched in blood?"

Hylla glowers at Aphrodite and crosses her arms, "He's a sociopath, not a psychopath. There's a difference. And he isn't _always _covered in blood! Only occasionally, and I make she he cleans himself before he touches me!"

"Oh? I'm surprised you care about cleanliness. Isn't the Queen of the Amazon's notorious for public executions and torture? Surely you must be doused in icky blood once every week?"

"Not really," Hylla shrugs, "There's a lot of diseases you can get from blood contact. I don't want to get HIV or anything! I'm a _Queen, _I don't get dirty unless I have to."

Aphrodite leans forward and wiggles her eyebrows. Hylla gains a faint blush and growls to herself, sitting back in her couch. The Goddess of love covers a giggle, Mori doing the same. If she could read her mind, the Mori would hear Hylla's thoughts screaming with curses and insults.

Unbeknown to Hylla, Aphrodite _can._

"Enough of the foul language, demigod, it's not good for you. Foul thoughts lead to foul words which lead to a foul appearance."

Hylla raises an eyebrow, "Are you sure you're not reading into things there?"

Aphrodite gasps accusingly, "You dare?!"

Mori rolls her eyes and the three of them settle into casual conversation, or at least as casual it can get when you're forced to chat with a vindictive Olympian goddess.

Much to Hylla's chagrin, the conversation was turned to herself. She suspects the Goddess of Love is prying into their love life's. Why she would care at all is beyond her, probably because the goddess is a diva and feasts on drama.

"Spill the quinoa, what's going on with you and Samuel!"

Before Hylla can demand an explanation, Aphrodite is cutting her off again with a desperate passion burning in her eyes.

"Ah-ah! None of that. I know drama when I see it, and girl, you've got a problem with someone. Tell me, what did Samuel do?"

"That's not-he didn't!" Aphrodite gives Hylla a knowing look, and the Queen huffs in displeasure.

"Samuel… is endangering himself recklessly again. Gods it feels like when I first met him again. A man of action rushing off into danger, getting hurt horribly, then someone having to rescue him. I love him dearly, but he just _won't listen to me! _I think I'm… Never mind. What matters is we can't work with one another because he's always rushing off somewhere! Case in point with Ceres. Sure, he was a little high, but you know what I mean."

She puts her head in her hands and yells loudly before going silent. When she speaks, her voice is terse and weary. A woman pushed to her wits end and beyond.

"…I can't lose him, but it's like he doesn't care that _I _care. There's something I need to tell you, but you can't tell Samuel! He can't know!... Not yet. Girls, I'm-"

* * *

"Hey… still doing okay?"

Silence.

"Look, I'm sorry for spearing you in the gut. To be fair, you were literally trying to kill me!"

"Grapes!"

"I agree. It _was _very rude."

Eros glowers in his seat. Samson haphazardly wrapped a bandage around the god's middle, stemming the flow of blood but the _real _damage has already been done.

He's a mess. Golden blood has stained his immaculate white chiton, the cloth material torn and ripped in many places. His flesh is covered in dozens of tiny cuts and many more bruises hidden behind his clothes. The once great wings of his lie lazily to his sides, many feathers are missing while the rest are disheveled and in desperate need of grooming.

The biggest tragedy of it all; The God's 'gift to the world' is ruined. His hair is a _mess._

"Quiet, you _minor god! _I wouldn't be like this if you just stuck to the plan!"

"Grapes?! Grapes!"

"Grapes' is right, no one told us anything about a plan. Gods, Aphrodite really barely planned this out, didn't she?"

Eros scoffs and leans his seat back. Grapes glances at him from his perch on Samson's lap and scoffs. Samson sighs at the sour mood of Eros. After he saved Eros from the collapsing factory and knocked him out, he loaded the god in his van and went to the next place on the list. After an hour or two of driving, the god woke from his forced slumber and has been in a foul mood ever since.

"Why in the world don't you just heal yourself? Or go back to your temple and have a nymph help you?"

Eros groans and makes a gagging sound. Grapes and Samson both raise an eyebrow at him simultaneously.

"And what? Let everyone see how I look? Fat chance! I'm a God of beauty, minor god. No on must _ever _see me like this again! I'll wait here until I feel well again. Shouldn't be long, mayhaps a week or two and I'll be gone. You owe me lodging for doing this to me! As you should know, great rewards come to those who help out a god. It's in your best interest!"

Grapes rolls his eyes and Samson inhales deeply before exhaling just the same. Damn every god that calls Olympus home, Eros is right! Even a favor from a minor is a bountiful reward. Of course, that means there's only one place Samson can store Eros seeing as how Samuel definitely will _not _want the god in his home.

"…Fine. You can stay at my house for now. There'll be some company, but they don't get out much. Just two lamia, a dozen Nymphs and twice as many Satyrs, and maybe a _titangoddesslivingintheattic."_

"What?" Eros questions, "Who the Hades is the last one?"

Samson is quiet for a moment.

"A titan goddess living in my attic."

Eros deadpans. Samson blow a puff of air from the side of his mouth, "She's nice, okay? Maybe a little weird… definitely a little weird, but she's friendly. For the most part at least. Just don't piss her off and you'll be fine. Also a daughter of Hades might pop in from time to time. Not sure how she figured out how, but she shadow travels there occasionally to get some food if the stuff at camp sucks that night."

Eros deadpans even harder if one can believe. Samson feels a small bead of sweat slide down the side of his face and he avoids Eros's eyes.

"…You're not filling me with confidence, minor god. That's a lot of people to see me."

"You'll be fine. Just say you're someone else or something. You can say you're an angel, maybe? But got roughed up by a demon or something."

Eros scoffs, "Please, demon is such an archaic term. As if a myth like that could damage me!"

"…Aren't we myths, too? It's unlikely only Greek and Roman gods exist. Maybe there's Norse ones? Celtic, too? And that's just Europe, Asia and even the Americas had to have had _something _in old times. Isn't Britomartis from the Cretan pantheon? Pretty certain that's separate from the ancient Greek one."

"Shut up! We don't talk about stuff like that, okay? Logic messes up certain things in the world. Best it's left as a mystery, otherwise writing the books would become too meta."

"What… books?"

Eros waves a hand in dismissal, "What did I just say? Don't think about it. Now, what's left on the list?"

Grapes unrolls the paper and glares at the evil words.

"Grapes. Grapes… hmm, Grapes?"

"Yeah… we haven't gotten a single one, actually. We were supposed to get one at the factory, but…"

"…It's a pile of rubble now." Eros grabs one of his wings and screams into it.

"Whatever, just forget the list. It was entirely a distraction except for the last one. That's the only important one. Just head there and deal with the bull crap mother has planned for you. Trust me, you'll love this one."

* * *

Samson's van pulls to a stop in a familiar Virginia driveway. It's… just how he remembered, only more decrepit now. Much of his old neighborhood has been abandoned, poorly taken care of for decades, or both combined.

"Eros… this is my old house… this is my _father's _house."

The god nods, "Precisely, Aphrodite's idea. She hits, and she hits hard. Good luck in there, you won't be the same man coming out."

Samson sighs and puts his head in his hands, mumbling quietly to himself for several moments. Eros glances at Samson and rolls his eyes but covers away when Grapes bares his fangs and hisses like a cat.

"…Grapes?"

Samson slowly slides his hands away from his face and wipes the dampness away from his eyes.

"Yeah… yeah, I'll be okay. Just… I'll go solo this time, okay? It's… personal."

Grapes nods and gets off Samson's lap, instead choosing to sit on Eros's lap. The god almost pushes him off but stops when the Karpos growls at him menacingly. Samson manages a weak chuckle and steps out of his van.

He takes a few steps and stands before the entrance to his old childhood home. It's clear no one has owned it since… his father died here years ago. The paint is the same, though it's horrible faded and chipped away. Windows are cracked and stained up with years of dust, but they're still the same old-style father was so proud of back in the good old days.

Standing here before his old home makes his heart ache, the same piercing ache he felt when his brothers had died. For Samson, reminders of the past were always what hurts him the most.

Damn that goddess! Aphrodite knew _exactly _what she was doing when she sent him here!

Samson approaches the door to the home and pauses, taking a shaking breath as he steels his courage. He reaches out to the door and opens it slowly, the door creaking with every slow inch it swings.

He gazes into the ruins of his old home, so achingly similar and all the more heart breaking everything he grew up with has been left to ruin. Samson steps into the dark living room and gazes left. Yup, his father's old Samurai armor is still there, still bright red and as intimidating as he remembers.

The armor feels cool to the touch. It's plates familiar and full of memory. Katsuhiro Akira hated anything Japanese, but his old armor was one of the few things Japanese he was proud of.

Samson grew up with very little of his heritage in his life. His father had a deep despise for his homeland, but Samson never learned why. It was a mystery he took with him to his grave.

The inside of the home has clearly seen better days. Everything inside is covered in a thick layer of dust, the furniture is rotting and emitting a foul smell. Even Katsuhiro's old coffee mug is still in the spot his father placed it on the morning of his death.

He walks through the living room and continues into the kitchen. Over the decades anything edible has been snatched up by an army of mice until they ate it all and fled to the next abandoned home, leaving the cabinets wide open and barren of anything.

Samson is glad the stench of rotting food has long since faded. Instead it smells of dust and dirty air. Finally, he reaches it, the same door he opened that sent him on the journey to Camp. With a shaking breath, Samson opens the door leading to his father's garden, his father's grave.

* * *

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he went out into the garden. The same army of Owls that his mother had sent to slay his father? An overrun garden with only weeds and grass growing? Maybe… even his father's bones still trapped in his spare Samurai armor.

What he wasn't expecting was a site as beautiful as the Hesperides garden. Like it's been attended to by Persephone herself, Katsuhiro's garden is as majestic as he remembered and perhaps even more so. Rows of lilacs grow thick, healthy stalks that reach towards the sky, roses and lilies join their cousins and grow in harmony with the plethora of other flowers reaching to the sun. Colors of the rainbow dance in the wind, healthy honey bees buzz about in peace traveling from flower to flower.

Samson feels a knife twist in his gut as he gazes out at the familiar garden. Why? Why did everything have to be this way?! His father should be here! His brothers should be alive and old! None of this should be this way!

…But… that's how things ended up anyways. His family is dead, all of his friends too. His wife killed his best friend, he's stuck forty years in the future and anything he once understood is outdated and extinct.

He sighs and heads to the center of the garden. The place he last saw his father's body.

At the center of the garden Samson stills, his feet crunching over a displaced path of grass and flowers. His body begins shaking as he bends down and feels the patch of earth.

This place… this spot on the ground… it's where his father's body lies. That must be why the grass is greener and more lush.

It's where his father died and was buried by the passage of time.

Why has no one been here since?! Why did they just leave his body behind?! Is the house cursed? Has the Mist covered the building and made the world forget about the man who died and was laid to rest here?

Whatever the reason, it must be a godly one. Even if the Japanese weren't accepted during Samson's childhood in the fifties someone would've noticed the body. The only person with an interest in this home and his father was… Athena. There's no doubt in his mind. She's the one responsible.

But why? She has no reason to preserve this house or garden. Next time he sees her Samson will have many words with her, she can count on that!

As he stands to leave, Samson feels something catch his foot. He looks down at something buried in the ground and grabs it and pulls it up.

Witch a smooth _shing, _Samson unveils the full length of his father's sword. A Japanese crafted katana made of the highest quality steel forged by a tradition blacksmith somewhere in the mountains. Supposedly, it was an heirloom passed down to Katsuhiro by his grandfather who was an old Shogun warlord in the old days.

The blade is well rusted and coated in a layer of dirt, but for the most part the blade is okay and sturdy enough for a potential restoration.

Samson looks at his reflection in the blade, but quickly turns away as he saw the face in the reflection. It's not one he likes looking at, the pain etched on his face in a reflection is a tormented reminder of the man he no longer is.

With a final, huffing breath, he turns around and heads back inside.

* * *

"_Father, do you love me?"_

_Katsuhiro, a gruff man with eyes as black as his hair, snorts and places a strong hand upon his son's head. His son is like a mirror image of himself when he was young. A wide-eyed boy asking too many questions without a moment's hesitation._

_He truly is his mother's spawn, that Greek witch! Bah, she's left him with the greatest gift a father could ever wish for._

_If only his sweet lily were still here. Yoko would've loved the boy like her own, had she the chance._

"_Silly questions are for silly boys. You are not silly. The answer is obvious."_

_The five-year-old boy in his lap hangs his head down in shame and leans against his father's chest. Despite only being five, the boy has the mind of one many times his age. He completes calculations at a speed of one in primary school, his words are well crafted and with intent, and his handwriting is a beautiful cursive worthy of being called calligraphy._

_Truly his son is blessed, for no one else can compete with his intelligence. Not even Katsuhiro himself, and the man was an engineer working for the American government during the war!_

"_Son. What is it you wish to be?" Katsuhiro long ago gave up on treating his son like a blabbering child. The boy is far to great and deserving of respect to be treated as anything less than an emperor. Any question to his son shall be one of true intent, for the boy's mind requires such stimulation to grow._

"_I wish to an inventor, father. My crafts will be the awe of a new world, and the word 'impossible' shall never apply to me. I will become great to make you proud of me."_

_Katsuhiro almost shows emotion, but he doesn't. His boy… his genius child has already made him proud and will do so with anything he sets his mind to from here on out. However, Katsuhiro has placed himself as a martyr for his son._

_By filling the role of a stern and pushing father, Katsuhiro kill be a catalyst to inspire nothing but great thoughts in his son's mind. But by doing so, Katsuhiro will never be a father his boy will confide fully in._

_To become great, Samson will have to leave his family behind. It's the price to pay, but Katsuhiro shall do whatever it takes to see his son become the greatest man on this earth._

"_Very well. You have chosen a path now, only you shall decide your fate from this point on. Make me proud, my son. Make the rules of fate bend to your greatness."_

* * *

"Ah! Samson, my dear! How was your trip?!"

Samson doesn't respond, instead sitting next to Mori across from Aphrodite and glowering distastefully. The goddess of love raises a perfect eyebrow, but Samson cuts her off before she can start speaking.

"You sent me to my home."

"Is that… a question? Or a statement?"

"Both."

"Oookay, then. How'd you enjoy it, then? Find some deep meaning in the rotting walls?"

Samson closes his eyes and inhales slowly. After a moment, he releases it and stares at the goddess with burning passion in his eyes. Mori holds a smile back as she remembers that same drive in the boy she grew up with. A burning desire of ambition that could rival even the likes of Prometheus.

He's back. Samson Akira has _returned._

"My father is buried in my backyard. My home is ruined, and the memories are gone. Father would be proud. He hated nostalgia. Though… I sense he would be displeased if I left something as valuable as his sword to rust away in the dirt."

He slams the katana down on the table, never once taking his eyes from the goddess. Aphrodite's mask has long since withered away, a thoughtful and displeased emotion filling her eyes. Samson continues, completely unbothered by the Olympian's unsettling gaze.

"You sent me there to break me, and I will admit you did for a moment. But the day is always darkest before the dawn. I'm a new man, a _better _man. I will not fold, I will never yield. Your scheme has failed. I am stronger and more determined than ever before!"

The new god and the Olympian hold one another's gaze for seemingly an eternity. A battle of determination, one challenging the other to see whom is weak of the mind.

Slowly, Aphrodite dons a snaking smile and flashes Samson a grin filled with enough venom to slay a dragon.

"Interesting little god, aren't you? Count my trial complete, and with flying colors too. Bravo, truly, bravo. You'll be a fine addition to Olympus, when the time comes. Savor your little victory, I'll have you eating from the palm of my hand soon enough, Spawn of Athena!"

The goddess flashes away in a display of brilliant pink light, the sweet scent of perfume hovering in the air for a few moments before fading away.

Samson exhales deeply and crashes into the back of the couch. Mori grabs his hand and stares at him with hungry eyes. Hylla watches Mori and rolls her eyes, making a mental note to buy new sheets for the guest bedroom.

"Samson… that was _hot._"

Said god snorts distastefully, "Thanks, sweetie, I think I almost shit myself with that creepy smile of hers. Glad I guessed right her trial was to test my resolve, though she could've gone about it a nicer way."

"Yeah, pretty messed up sending you to your father's grave," Hylla says, "Messing with parents is a pretty fucked up thing."

"Heh, it was a pretty interesting trial. Too bad Samuel couldn't make it, he would've loved to see my father's Samurai armor. Any idea when he gets back?"

"Should be here tomorrow afternoon. Argus is dropping him off. I guess after that we just need to wait for the next god to show up. That's number three of twelve now, right? Already twenty percent done."

Samson nods and looks at the ceiling in thought. So far no overarching theme has presented itself in the trials the Sam's have faced, but Aphrodite's is undoubtedly one of many whom will have a trial designed more to test a aspect of their resolve than be a simple errand run.

As crafty as the Olympians think they are, Samson will see through their deception with keen eyes.

Fate be damned. Samson is a great man and will live as he chooses. No test nor trial will break him for he is a colossus.

The winds of Fate will bend before his greatness. He promised his father so, and he's a man of his word.


	12. The Little Sociopath's

**A/N: Not much to say this time. Been crazy busy at work, but I'm back. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter. It's been certainly fun to write.**

* * *

"Oh good, you're awake. Good thing you have a hard head, anyone else would've been out for a week. We picked you up from the beach last night. Good thing the tide didn't drag you out into the ocean."

Samuel groans as his eyes flutter open. His head aches with a piercing pain and his body practically screams to Samuel that his muscles are tired and his joints and croaking. Samuel's felt worse pain before. He briefly remembers when a Giant stomped on his arm and practically turned his bones to dust.

_That _was one of the most painful experiences of his life. Though the scars he earned from Demeter, even briefly as they existed, likely have surpassed everything before them.

Yeah, fuck that Goddess!

The morning light fills his vision, gentle rays of light warming his face until a shadow blocks the light.

Will Solace appears in Samuel's vision, handing him a glass of water and a small plate with a cube of ambrosia. Samuel thanks the son of Apollo and consumes his morning meal.

"Welcome to the land of the living. I swear every time I see you, you come with added scars and horribly disfiguring wounds."

Samuel finishes his last bite of ambrosia and gives Will a goofy grin, "What can I say? Scars are earning of a won battle. I say every demigod could use some more anyways."

Will sighs and takes the empty plate from Samuel, "Funny enough, your siblings say the same things. They want to see you, by the way, the little piranhas idolize you almost as much as your mother."

The children of Eris are a fun, yet tragic story. Their batch in the camp is small and tightly knit, but their numbers have barely recovered from the second Titan war a few years ago.

Tricked by a arrogant son of Hecate, the older batch of Eris-born demigods fell fighting against the forces of Olympus as they tried to fight their way into the Empire State Building.

Unbeknown to them, Eris was allied with Olympus, but her children were misled to believe the opposite. Samuel during the battle exposed the treachery of Kronos and his lies to his half-siblings, but the damage had already been done.

Only six total children of Eris remain in the world. Five of whom are half of Samuel's age or younger, and the last is Samuel himself.

Samuel smiles fondly as he sits himself upright on the medical bed. His siblings are the few people in the world Samuel feels such a strong connection with.

Angelica and Christina, the resident girls of the Eris Cabin and by far the kindest of the batch. Samuel had a hand in raising them as they're year-rounders, acting like a proper father figure and teaching them to be better than Samuel is as a person.

It hurts him perhaps somewhere deep inside to think that, but Samuel knows better than most that insanity and rage will only lead them to their deaths. Samuel was lucky he managed to survive through his younger years, back when he was possessed by his rage rather than controlling it. He'd be damned if he let his siblings suffer through the same fate without him trying!

Moving on is the youngest of Samuel's siblings and perhaps his favorite of them all. Aaron, last name unknown, is exactly like Samuel when he was ten and that thought is what terrifies Samuel the most.

He possesses the same passion for cruelty and hidden rage as Samuel, but his youthful naivety means he comes off more as a young child that doesn't know any better. Which is true. Aaron idolizes Samuel the most of his siblings, and no matter how hard Samuel tries Aaron isn't receptive to the faults of his idols.

Finally is the eldest sons of Eris behind Samuel, twin boys named Simon and Arthur brand. The two act as the councilors to the Eris cabin after Samuel left camp when he got too old. Both are true Sons of Eris, causing chaos and strife around Camp Half Blood similar to, but in darker fashion to the Stoll Brothers.

In fact, most in the camp consider them bizzaro-world versions of the Stolls. Nearly identical in temperament and personality but just a hair more evil.

Despite the inherent flaws found in his siblings, Samuel couldn't love the bunch of them more!

"We've got a game of Capture the Flag going on tonight, but we're doing it in turns by Cabins this time. Two vs. Two. I think you might be happy to know the Eris Cabin was drawn for the game with the Ares Cabin as allies. You're body is tired and you could do with some sleep, but as your doctor today I say you'd be fine to participate if you like."

"Really? I'm surprised you're letting me go. Do you want me out of here so you can sneak Nico in here for some alone time?"

Normally Will would blush like a tomato at the insinuation, but to Samuel's surprise Will looks completely forlorn.

"That's… not good. Are you two… did you guys break up?"

Will sighs, "No, by the gods I don't think I'd be in camp if that happened! Nico is… kind of being a total asshole to everyone right now. His until recently deceased sister is back in Camp, and his mood has been like poison ever since he laid eyes on her. Gods, he's even treating _me _like I'm scum!"

"Wait, are we talking about Hazel? I thought they were cool?"

"No, not her, his _other _sister, the Hunter who died on the quest years ago. Somehow, she was resurrected by a demigod some number of months ago, and despite her attempts to fix their relationship Nico's been treating her and the rest of the camp like a villain. Gods, I just don't know what to do about him. He hasn't been like this since, well since she _died _after joining the Hunters."

Samuel sighs and stands off the cot. Will helps him into his normal clothes and he spins around and places a hand on Will's shoulder.

"I'm not sure myself but knowing you you've already got a plan in mind. Have faith in yourself. You're Will Fucking Solace! No pissy son of Hades is going to get away with being an asshole on your watch!"

Will smiles and wipes the dampness from his eyes, "Thanks Sam. Now get out of here! I can practically feel your siblings vibrating in excitement from here!"

* * *

"It's a beautiful day. Birds are chirping. Children are maiming. On days like these, kids like you… SHOULD BE GIVING ME A FUCKING HUG!"

"SAMUEL!"

A whole seventy pounds of excited ten-year-old slams into Samuel's chest, eliciting a fierce groan as he hits his bruises, but ignoring the pain and rejoicing at the meeting of brothers.

"Aaron! Aaron… AARON!" Samuel gently pries Aaron from his chest and winces, "Fuck dude, take it easy! I'm healing from a car crash!"

"Pfft, don't be a baby! You're alive, you can walk, that means you can HUG!"

Aaron _squeezes _with all his puny might, and Samuel's bruises cry out in pain. He pries Aaron from his person again and stands, rolling his shoulders and massaging the soreness away.

He smiles happily as his gathering of siblings stand before him in a row, Aaron as the shortest on the left and Simon and Arthur as the tallest on the right.

"Fuck it, come here you bunch of ingrates!"

The whole Eris crew lurches forward and wraps Samuel in a life draining hug, each one squeezing so hard bones threaten to crack under the pressure.

Samuel couldn't care less. He's happy as can be and that's all that matters at the moment.

"Fuck, I've missed you guys! Aaron, you've grown! Last I saw you were a whole foot short. Damn, is that actual _muscle? _What happened to your noodle arms?!"

Aaron grins and punches Samuel's arm, his sibling laugh along and bare their teeth with beaming smiles.

"Oh yeah? Well, now that you're rich I think you've gone soft! I remember your arms being bigger!"

Samuel snorts and puts Aaron in a headlock and gives him a fun-loving noogie.

"Brat! You've gotten bigger, that's all! And I'm not soft! I've been running around all week like a bitch running errands for the Olympians. Now I've got an immortal god-father on my ass too!"

His siblings all quiet down and plead at Samuel with their eyes. They don't have to say anything, he knows just by looking at them that they want all of the juicy gossip.

"Settle down, brats, I've got a hell of a story for you!"

* * *

"-and that's how I ended up here at camp. I should be heading back home soon, but I think I'll stay for a day or two. Rumor has it that you guys got called to play in Capture the Flag today?"

"Oh yes," Arthur says with a big smile, "We got the Ares cabin as allies and it couldn't be better. Guess who we're going up against? Athena and Apollo!"

Samuel snorts, "Brains and beauty vs. brawn and chaos? Oh boy, this is going to be good!"

Angelica leans forward with her hands behind her back and pleads at Samuel wither her eyes, "Now, even with the Ares cabin, we're a little shorthanded on experienced fighters… we were hoping maybe you could…?"

Ah, there it is. Samuel rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, "If I'm being honest… I'm not in much of a condition to fight. However, any good army needs a good commander. I may not be the best to fight right now but I can sure as shit lead a group!"

Despite the bad news the children of Eris _cheer _with passion. Each one knows Samuel's strength doesn't end with fighting ability, but also includes his mind. He was a king after all, and he's lead many successful engagements during the past two wars before.

"Excuse me," A small voice calls behind Samuel, "You wouldn't happen to know Samson Akira, would you?"

Samuel and his siblings looks behind themselves. The voice comes from a young girl with pale skin and black hair and eyes. Samuel tilts his head to the side and squints.

"…Are you… Nico's sister?"

She visibly dejects, and Samuel quickly changes the subject, "Never mind, I do actually. He's my…"

Samuel has to not cringe from the pun, "…_God-_father. What's up? Need me to shoot him in the leg or something for you?"

"Gods no!" The girl shakes her head, "I just want to call him or something. IM's don't work, so I was wondering if he has a phone or something I could call?"

"Huh, give me a second," Samuel takes an old receipt from his back pocket and writes a phone number on it with his pen, "Call this number. It's my house phone. While you're at it, tell him I'll be back tomorrow evening."

She beams him a bright smile and runs off to the Big House, no doubt to steal the phone in Chiron's office. Samuel watches her run off with a curious gaze.

"What's up? She interests you or something?"

"No, not that. It's just something feels… off, I don't know how to describe it." Samuel shakes his head, "Whatever. Let's get started on planning! What do we know about the game? Special rules or equipment?"

His siblings all exchange glances and grin at him with feral smiles, "We can use rubber bullets in our guns!"

* * *

"Sherman, what's our head count?"

"Twenty in total. Fourteen Ares Campers, six of yours. Enemy out numbers us by five, but we have much greater numbers of frontline fighters while they have over double the amount in artillery. By my count they have eight frontline infantries."

Samuel nods and looks over the troops under his command. The hours quickly passed, and before anyone knew it the time for Capture the Flag was at hand. Chiron decided to let the campers run the games today, and despite everyone expecting it to not work out at all, surprisingly the rules created by the campers are fair and balanced for both sides.

"What's the quirk for this match, again?"

Sherman salutes like an actual soldier, "Sir! Both sides are using the same equipment, sir! We get guns, they get guns, we get swords and shields, they do too!"

Samuel thanks Sherman and looks over a map of the combat grounds. Capture the Flag is simple to win, get the enemy flag and cross a stream in the center of the woods to win. Obviously no maiming or killing, it's a game for fun meant to simulate combat against humanoid opponents.

Typically only classis weapons are used for the games, but with Eris campers making the rules for this match more advanced weaponry was OK'd this time.

Of course, that means a 'kill shot' with a rubber bullet means that the one who was hit must play dead. The game reminds Samuel of a game of paintball or an airsoft war. Childish despite how deadly serious campers take this game sometimes.

Hell, there's a literal death toll record! It's not that big, obviously, but still, people have been killed playing. Mostly they were killed by Hunters when they come around to crash the game, and everyone, even Chiron, suspects the Huntress who did the killing had a grudge and used the game as an excuse to 'accidentally aim high in the heat of battle' and shoot someone in the throat instead of a leg or an armored part of the body.

Also, they're supposed to use blunt arrows. When question why they didn't, the guilty Hunter would shrug and say they 'forgot'.

Yeah, Samuel refuses vehemently to play with those girls. There is an actual chance of death with them on the field, and even if he's friends with Thalia most of the remaining Hunters hate him more than they do other boys.

He has no clue why, and frankly he can't give a shit.

What matters is that they're somewhere else, and he and his siblings and friends have a game to win!

"Sherman, divide the Ares Campers into guerrilla groups. Four groups of five watching the borders. Keep a track on enemy numbers and make sure you maintain your positions! Athena campers are smart but make mistakes when they get frustrated. We outlast them until they get desperate and break formation, _that's _when we strike, got it?!"

The whole group salutes and cheers, Samuel feels a twang in his heart but shakes the feeling away. He's over it, the Gargareans he commanded are long dead in the past, he's here now and that's what matters.

"Each Guerilla group gets two gunners and three infantries. Gunners are absolutely vital, got it?! Without them we lose to the enemy gunners. Gunner units, find good sniping positions and keep a vigil eye out for enemy rangers. We take them out they've got no range. By the gods _do not _get bated by an enemy gunner. That's a trap and we will lose any who pursue. Follow my orders and we'll win. Disobey and we lose. UNDERSTOOD?!"

Another round of Salutes, "Good. I'll be behind our lines relaying orders and information to other parties. If you see someone slip behind our lines alert me and I'll handle it. _Maintain formation at all costs! _I'll handle things outside of the plan. Now, get to it! Game starts in fifteen, use the time to find hiding holes and how you'll manage patrols!"

Even without trying Samuel has managed to inspire great things in those under his command. Despite his failings during his time as a ruler of an actual group of people, those under his command always look up to him as a paragon of a leader.

Those who don't know him see him as an aggressive tyrant. They see little difference between him and the monsters they're trained to hunt, but Samuel can't fault them for thinking like that.

However, there's a key difference between him and them. Samuel is a survivor, he fights to live rather than lives to fight. He'll not let his guard down around anyone, and it's there to stay!

Call him what they wish. He'll still be alive when they're dead.

* * *

*CRACK! SNAP! CRACK!*

"So, it has begun."

Sounds of combat distantly ring throughout the forest. Shouts and cries of combat and rage echo eerily through the forest while Samuel scouts out the weak flanks in his troop's positions.

The combat grounds are maybe a few hundred feet wide and thrice that amount as long. His troops guard positions above the river bank every forty to fifty feet. As far as _actual _combat this is very simplified and significantly easier to manage, but the same goes for Malcol who is no doubt running the show on the enemy's side.

*THWACK!* "FUCK! WHO JUST SHOT ME IN THE ASS?!"

"IT'S A BIG TARGET, WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO SHOOT?!"

"FUCK YOU AARON!"

That's one enemy down at the very least. Twenty-four more to go.

Samuel's key to victory hinges on taking advantage of the Athena cabins shared fatal flaw.

Their pride.

Frustrate your enemy enough and they're bound to get desperate. Apollo campers are great archers, and if Samuel tried this plan of outlasting them while they had bows then the plan would fail.

But because of the rules, ranged weapons are guns with rubber bullets only. Despite being tremendously accurate with a bow, not a single Apollo camper has practiced even for a minute with w gun while the Ares cabin for sure has and he has personally trained his siblings with them.

Despite a slight numbers advantage, Samuel by far has the better prepared troops.

Samuel sneaks through the forest foliage and spots one of the fire fights between his guerilla troops and a contingent of enemy troops.

His side is outnumbered by five. He can count eight infantry and two gunners, but their ranged units have no handling whatsoever with their weapons. They shoot with wild bursts and aim high at the same time, providing no cover at all for their frontline fighters.

Another disadvantage of this particular batch of enemy troops is that they're mostly Apollo campers. While excellent with bows, Apollo campers are much weaker than most as swordsman.

Why in the world would they have such a large group of Apollo campers attacking here? They'd be far better of using Athena campers as infantry.

Unless… Dammit! It's a diversion!

Samuel quickly sprints down the length of the river. He knows that particular guerilla group will be fine without him. He needs to check the other guerillas and see how the enemy soldiers are moving against his own!

He crosses forty feet and passes his other group. They wave him on, saying they haven't been probed at all by enemies. Another fifty feet passes and the center guard points further down the bank, that's where the biggest group of enemies was heading.

One more patrol group he passes without a word, at most they're being probed by the enemy, but further down the river he can clearly hear a massive fire fight being exchanged.

His ribs throb in sore pain from the bruises, but he pumps his leg and rendezvouses with his final patrol.

The forest is practically alive with action, bullets pound and probe against the large centurion style shields the Ares infantry units are using for protection against the enemy bullets.

Samuel quickly finds cover behind the wall and finds Sherman trying to peak over his shield to see the enemy positions.

"SHERMAN, WHAT'S THE NEWS?"

Another wave of rubber bullets smashes against Sherman's shield, and he winces from the stinging pain against his arm.

"FUCK! WE'RE OUTNUMBER BUT HOLDING! SAMUEL, I THINK SOMEON'E SLIPPED PASSED, BUT I COULDN'T SEE ANYOME WHEN I LOOKED BACK! I'M TOO BUSY TRYING TO HANDLE THIS!"

Samuel slaps a heavy hand on Sherman's shoulder and nods. He takes a rifle from one of the hidden gunners and sprints back to the rock holding their flag.

It's a smart play by Malcolm, hit two flanks at once with heavy attacks and sneak someone quick through to grab their flag, likely hoping that their lines would falter when they saw someone get passed them.

But Samuel expected something like this. No doubt they have a large force attacking the center line, expecting it to not be there at all or missing troops sent to reinforce another the weaker flanks. Not the case here.

They're in for a sore surprise when they realize they're walking straight into a well-guarded position. Samuel's counting on the twins to get a few 'kills' in to permanently weaken the total number of enemies.

However, that means Samuel has a sly thief to manage in the meantime.

"I CAN SEE YOU! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!"

It puts Samuel in great danger yelling like this. The one who slipped passed his troops is aware someone's after them, but psychological warfare has its advantages.

No doubt it's a small, younger camper they sent to get his flag. Which means he's still young at that much easier to intimidate.

Samuel bursts through the trees and into the small clearing holding his flag. He grins wickedly as he meets the tiny, frightened eyes of a blonde-haired boy with grey eyes clutching his flag like his life depends on it.

"Hello~" Samuel's voice grinds like nails on a chalk board in the smaller boys ears, "Whatcha' got there~?"

The boy's screams could be heard in Chiron's office hundreds of feet away.

* * *

"Samuel! Samuel!" Aaron bursts into the clearing with a big grin on his face, "The enemy! They're routing!"

Samuel's eyes widen, "Quick! Tell everyone to push forward! We can catch them while they're retreating! Go! GO!"

Aaron salutes and turns back into the forest, heading to the right of the river. Samuel heads left and runs for the two groups guarding the opposite side.

"SHERMAN!" Samuel yells through the silence in the forest, "PUSH FORWARD! TAKE AS MUCH GROUND AS YOU CAN GET! TAKE OUT ANY STRAGGLERS!"

Sherman overhears the orders from his commander and turns to his comrades with a wicked grin.

"Hear that boys? Time for a counterattack!"

His group cheers with feral joy and rushes forward. Not even the running stream of water slows their charge, nor does the muddy banks and lush forest floor.

United and rallied under Samuel, the groups of guerilla fighters form up into one solid unit. The Ares campers form a loose shield wall with their Eris allies using their guns to suppress any enemies they encounter.

Samuel catches up with his troops and spots a few scattered enemy soldiers sprinting away in retreat. He points to their positions and calls for his gunners to focus fire and take them out before they get too far.

Thanks to Samuel's training, his siblings score perfect shots even with the limited visibility of the forest in the way. All in all they score four 'kills' on enemy troops with this attack alone, another four were 'killed' during the previous enemy attacks with only three of his own being taken out.

Suddenly Sherman yells out in pain as something smacks the back of his head hard, another three crying the same way from other strikes hitting parts of their bodies.

Samuel quickly spins around and fires a shot from his rifle into the high branches of the trees. Someone cries out in shock as they fall from the tree and smack into the ground.

"THEY'RE IN THE TREES! GUNNERS, AIM UP!"

Immediately the tops of the trees come to life. The remaining dozen and a half enemy troops drop from the branches of the trees and engage Samuel's forces from behind. The sheer numbers overwhelm his siblings and other gunners in the back and quickly they're disarmed and because of the rules of the game, they're disqualified from the fight.

Samuel roars and flips the rifle around in his grip, using the butt of the gun like a club to bash the shields and armor of the Apollo and Athena campers that try and take him out next.

He bashes an Apollo girl in the helmet with his club and knocks the girl out with a single swing. He bashes an Athena boy in the chest and sends him sprawling to his feet where he follows up by bashing him over the top of the helmet and knocking him unconscious.

"C'MON!" He smacks a girl in the arm and breaks the bone in one strike, "YOU WANNA FUCK WITH ME?! C'MON!"

The last thirteen enemies march on him simultaneously, but their confidence quickly falters as Samuel's line of Ares fighters finally realize they've been outmaneuvered and spin around and advance to his aid.

Samuel glances at the fierce, large fighters of the Ares campers by his side and grins maniacally at his surviving foes.

"BROTHER'S! WHAT IS YOUR PROFESSION?!"

The warriors bash their weapons against their shields and holler with bloodlust. Teeth are bared in disturbing smiles, wills are steeled and furious emotion for revenge possesses the minds of Samuel's soldiers.

He revels in the cowering forms of the surviving Apollo and Athena campers and points his gun at them.

"TONIGHT! YOU DINE IN HELL!"

With one final roar of fury, the two sides rush forward and clash with one final desperate push for total victory.

* * *

"So… Malcolm…" Malcolm ignores the angry stares of his fellows in the infirmary. Will looks over the twenty-five injured demigods and sighs, starting work on the first one and painfully slowly working his way down the list of the injured.

"How the fuck did we get our asses kicked by a bunch of pig-headed oafs and tiny psychopaths."

"Ehem," They all turn to the entrance. Samuel's leaning against the doorframe with a shit eating grin on his face. He meets Malcolm's eyes and his grin becomes even more self-fulfilled.

"It's _sociopath _actually. Get it right. I thought you were _smart! _Have fun thinking of a punishment for losing! LATER LOSERS!_"_

Samuel disappears down the hall, his laugh echoing eerily in the ears of the infirm. One of the injured daughters of Athena turns to Malcolm and scowls angrily.

"I vote we clean the stables but make _Malcolm _do it by himself!"

The rest of the injured agree. Malcolm groans and covers his head with his pillow, "Fucking hate you, Strife!"


	13. Perry Mason, Full Time Badass

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the humongous delay, I was on vacation for a good long while. But I am back! So no worries, I'm back to writing some more chapters for everyone. Anyways this chapter is going to be a very fun one, it's a marked shift in the story and I'm excited to finally get to this part. Hope you dudes enjoy, cheers.**

* * *

"Awwww," Aaron whines, crocodile tears in his eyes as he wraps his arms around Samuel's legs, "Do you _really _have to go already?!"

Samuel chuckles and ruffles his youngest brothers' hair, "Trust me, buddy, I don't want to go either, but part of being old is having responsibilities. I've still got some important things to take care of, but I promise I'll come back and visit soon."

Aaron huffs and crosses his arms across his chest, puffing air into his lungs and trying to appear intimidating. Samuel, of course, is unafraid nor impressed. He's easily twice his height and thrice his weight.

"You better! Or else I'll make you regret it!"

Aaron runs off and joins his sisters as they play a particularly fierce game of volley ball against the Ares cabin.

Samuel smiles fondly as he watches his brother run off, but his smile drops quickly. The look Aaron had in his eyes… a fierce desire for violence not unlike the same look he had in his eyes when he first came to this camp.

"Arthur… Simon…" The two twin councilors of the cabin appear from the shadows, each sporting the same concerned look as Samuel.

"He's been getting into fights," Simon starts. Arthur continues the thought, "He almost killed a younger Athena girl last week, and not by accident either. If I wasn't there to stop him he would've driven a sword through her heart."

Samuel's quiet for a moment, "He's trying to be like me, isn't he?"

Arthur shifts a little, "…Yeah, he's always looked up to you the most, but he looks up to the parts of you we don't want him to. Samuel, Aaron's become fanatic about you. I think he's trying to recreate events that happened to you, hoping it'll make him exactly like you."

"Sam… he's going to get himself killed. You got lucky, surviving everything that's been thrown at you. Actually, you _did _die, once. Aaron won't have the same opportunity."

"Yeah," Samuel says with a sigh, "I sure as hell was."

He turns around and puts a hand on each of the twin's shoulders, "Keep an eye on him. Try and turn him from this path. He's too young to die, let alone get in any kind of trouble. Arthur, Simon, we absolutely can't lose him!"

The twins nod, "Don't worry, we've got this."

* * *

"The wind's howling."

The night sky reigns high in the sky. Artemis's full moon gazes down upon all, not a single cloud in the sky. It's beautiful, radiant and decorated with thousands of glittering stars.

Of course, to young Perry, this all means nothing. Dark creatures hide themselves with the faces of men and women, preying on the ignorant mortals that go about their lives oblivious to their natural predators hiding amongst their ranks.

He puffs one last time on his pipe and smothers the ashes, wrapping the instrument in a cloth and hiding it inside of his long coat.

Perry, full name Perry James Mason, is a demigod of twenty-one years of age. His mother, the Goddess of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite, blessed him as she does to all of her offspring.

His looks, obviously, are model level gorgeous, even if his short sandy blonde hair is poorly kept and his face sports a decent five-o'clock shadow.

Nearly every god and demigod alike mock children of Aphrodite, calling him and his kin weak and useless.

He begs to differ.

Before he left camp, he was one of the best swordsmen behind Luke, may the bastard rest in peace. He fought his hardest in each conflict his Greek comrades have been forced through and survived with some of the highest kill counts to any one demigod.

While his powers may not be flashy or outwardly impressive, Charmspeak is still one of the most versatile powers compared to any other.

His Charmspeak is powerful, many regard it as one of the most powerful to any demigod, perhaps even comparable to Piper's strength with the power.

Perry would scoff at that. Piper may have natural talent, but that only goes so far. She's stagnated, content with where she is, Perry strives to constantly improve.

She was born with talent so great she waltzed with ease into greatness while he struggled and clawed his way to gain his strength. Who's better, then? That's a debate he cares little for.

After he left camp four years ago, he found he couldn't simply leave the world of Olympus behind. Around every corner, behind every false face, monsters hid in waiting, hoping for an easy meal.

Well, they should've tried harder. He slew each monster and talked his way out of the trouble it causes him with healthy layers of Charmspeak and gratuitous use of the Mist.

If the world of gods and monsters refuses to leave him be, then he'll charge headfirst into that darkness and take as much of it he can with him as they drag his soul into the underworld.

Perry smooths out his trench coat and emerges behind a couple, a young man and woman, and follows behind them at a distance.

He got a tip off that a smooth-talking serial murderer has been striking across the city. His victims are left butchered and cut into pieces.

The bodies are whole, however, so the one responsible isn't a monster as it would've at the least gnawed on the bones. So that means only one branch of being is left responsible.

How does he know it's not simply a human murderer? Well, the problem is that nearly a dozen people have been caught, tried and imprisoned, yet the serial killers mark still shows up in each new murder.

And the caught murders claim they have no recollection of their killing, that they blanked and woke up a few days later covered in the blood of the ones they loved.

Through simple deduction, it was easy for Perry to figure out what's the cause.

It's a spirit, perhaps a lost eidolon Gaea released from the underworld during her rise to power.

Why the spirit is obsessed with killing he doesn't know, but with what little he knows of eidolons some of them are corrupted spirits of those in the field of torment who lost much of their identities an roam the fields endlessly.

Perhaps then the spirit was once a murderer who knows how many centuries ago and without Gaea to lead it the spirit simply follows its base instincts.

Maybe he's about to find about. Through some divination techniques he learned from a good friend of his years ago he found the host currently possessed by the spirit and set out to stop it for good.

After all, it's his job to do so.

Most demigods search for peace, Perry searches for the truth.

Tonight, the hunt begins. Perry Mason, fulltime paranormal investigator and hunter has found his prey.

* * *

"Hey, you two!"

The duo, a young man and a woman spin around and freeze in fear. Not a single soul besides them and Perry occupy the empty streets of the city. Perry scans the two of them quickly but can't detect which one is possessed.

He twirls around his celestial bronze dagger in his hands and uses the Mist to ensure the mortal one sees it as a weapon.

"I got a question for ya'll. Which of you two nerds is actually a monster? It'll be easier to come out directly, no point hiding it. I know one of you two is possessed."

The boyfriends, and average looking man, puffs up his chest and tries to be intimidating. Perry, who's fought greater beasts than Average Joe here, is woefully unimpressed.

"W-what's it to you, fucker?! Get outa' here you psycho!" He puts a hand into his jacket like he's reaching for a gun, but Perry knows for sure he doesn't have one, "Just back off dude!"

Perry rolls his eyes and starts taking slow steps towards the two, "Pfft, sure thing dude. Do me a favor and split, will ya'? Me and your girl have some business?"

Perry puts an ounce of Charmspeak in his voice, and Average Joe's eyes go bleary and he nods and heads off down the street, likely towards his apartment. Once he's from sight, Perry turns to the girlfriend, a mousy brown-haired girl with fierce golden eyes and a snarl far to violent for what must be a peaceful young woman.

She reaches into her jacket and slowly draws a large kitchen knife, the kind butchers would use to easily carve chunks of meat.

Perry snorts in amusement, the spirit must've been real messed up when it had its own body however many years ago.

"So, you a butcher, or something? Or just a psycho who likes using butcher tools?'

The girl hisses, her voice far too unnatural for a regular mortal, each word is guttural and filled with malice and hatred.

"Hsssss, leave me be! I've done no harm to you, spawn of Aphrodite!"

"And that's where you're wrong," Perry takes another step, "You've butchered fourteen innocent men and women, sent the same number to prison. There's nothing I can do for them now, but I'll be damned sure that it happens to no one else again. You've hurt the people of my city, and that means you've hurt me. Prepare yourself for an ass whooping, I'll kick your ass all the way to the underworld and back!"

The eidolon laughs, her voice sounding like a razor scrapping along an old chalk board, "You'll do no such thing! I've heard of you, Perry, Son of Aphrodite! A bleeding heart! No. You'll not hurt the girl. I am _untouchable."_

Perry is quiet for a moment before throwing his head back in laughter. A bead of sweat drips down the side of the eidolon's face, it unconsciously takes a step back and grips its butcher knife even tighter.

"Haha, good one. You're a funny girl, you know that? By the way, why a woman? Get bored of the classic murderous boyfriend of husband and wanted to go with the psycho girlfriend route, this time? Don't even try and kid yourself. There's plenty of ways to strike a spirit from a body. Case in point, _celestial bronze."_

The eidolon roars and lunges at Perry, swinging the knife down in a big arc to split his skull in half. Impossibly fast, Perry catches her hands mid swing and lashes out with a kick to her middle, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her sprawling several feet away.

Perry adopts a loose stance, bouncing on the tips of his feet and prepping for another attack.

Much quicker than a mortal should be able to, the eidolon pushes the girls body to superhuman limits and recovers, slashing in wide, uncontrolled arcs at Perry with enough strength to easily take a hand off.

Perry proves his honed skills have been put to good practice. He deflects and dodges each and every swing of the knife, slowly getting an idea of his opponents' style and making note of her weaknesses and openings.

The eidolon lunges at Perry who spins around her fierce strike and slashes her shoulder with his dagger as she flies passed. The girl hisses in pain and slams into the concrete. She rises slowly and cups her shoulder. The fabric is ripped, but no blood leaks from where the wound should be.

"Like that?" Perry taunts, "Celestial bronze will never hurt her body, but it'll certainly hurt your spirit. All I've gotta do is get a mortal wound on her, and your spirit will be destroyed."

With an angry hiss, the spirit weighs her options. Stay and likely get killed by a demigod or run and maybe survive long enough to escape his wrath. Only one option, really.

The eidolon makes to leave her hosts body, but her eyes widen when she realizes that she can't!

"W-what have you done?! How have I been trapped?!"

Perry spins his blade and shows runes scratched onto the flat side of the blade, "These right here, magic runes. The finest gift I've ever received from my mother. One scratch interferes with magic or other supernatural powers on those hit, that includes wraiths and spirits, for a time being. Face it, all you can do now is fight."

Anger and fear consume the spirit. It's fought, tooth and nail to reach the surface, it'll be damned if some useless son of a vain love goddess sends it back to Tartarus! The spirit roars and races after Perry, slashing wildly and maniacally, not letting up in the assault.

Either it hits Perry and he dies, or he kills her and she's sent away for decades. Unfortunately for her, she's fallen right into his trap.

Those that fight desperately are also at their most vulnerable, and Perry know _exactly _how to take advantage of that.

Perry suddenly drops down and swipes at the eidolon with his legs, tripping her and sending her crashing into the concrete floor.

Before she can recover, Perry quickly flips his dagger around in his grip and brings the weapon down into the base of her neck.

The eidolon's eyes widen in pain and it _screams _in agony, her shrill cry of death sounding for miles, yet it goes silent to mortals as the Mist deletes the sound from their minds.

Her golden eyes slowly fade to a soft green, and the girl falls into unconsciousness. Perry pushes himself to stand and pockets his dagger. He looks down at the unconscious woman and sighs.

"Damn, now I gotta figure out where she lives. Also, why are you hiding in the shadows? Hoping for an easy kill?"

A figure appears from the shadows of a nearby alley way, clearly a woman his age. Her hair is a sandy blonde pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes are blue and pierce through his soul, her complexion is the same pale he's always been fond of, despite the years that've passed.

Perry sighs and takes his pipe from his jacket, lighting the bowl and taking a big huff.

"Sarah… been a long time. How's Hylla?"

Sarah leans against a brick wall. It's clear to Perry she's in no mood for his shenanigans. She's here with a purpose.

"Perry… I need your help. We've uncovered something. Something big. I need someone I can trust. I've found the rabbit's hole and it leads straight into wonderland."

Perry turns away and looks up at the bright moon, "I thought I was done with Amazon contracts. Last time I was branded and enslaved for months. Had plan my escape for months, took a couple guards out too. I thought Hylla's made it clear I'm never to have contact again."

Sarah blows a loose strand of hair and crosses her arms, "She's changed her mind. Perry, we're prepared to reward you, handsomely, too. Your own official office and all the money you could need for another fifteen years."

She hands him a small slip of paper and starts making her way to a parked car down the street. Before she can get too far, she looks over her shoulder and calls back to Perry.

"If you don't want to do it for her, then do it for me. I'll see you around, love."

Perry sighs and pulls up the sleeve on his left arm, revealing a scar in the shape of a name. He traces his fingers over the familiar letters and blows a puff of smoke from his nose.

"Crazy broad, can't believe I felt something for you."

He picks up the unconscious girl from the floor and starts off in the direction he saw her boyfriend heading.

"…Can't believe I still feel something, too."

He covers the scar with his sleeve again, but the name burned into his arm and his heart will forever be there.

Sarah. The name of the woman he loves, the same woman who enslaved him and the very same who burned her name into his flesh forever.

* * *

"Hylla… what… the… FUCK?!" Samuel shouts as he sees nearly a dozen woman, clearly other Amazons from their attire and attitude, racing around his home, carrying boxes full of paper and other equipment that looks like something from a spy drama.

He spots an old face, one he's not too fond to see but a familiar one none the less, and calls out to her, "SARAH! Sarah, what the hell is happening here?!"

Her eyes widen when she sees him for a split second, but she quickly recovers her cool and responds to his boorish demand.

"Hylla's brought us here to run investigations on the mystery attackers. They were first spotted here and by extension likely have an operation in the same city. It's far easier to deal with them in the same city rather than miles away."

"Okay cool. BUT WHY MY HOUSE?!"

Someone clears their throat and Samuel turns and finds Hylla resting on the sofa, a pile of papers and a fresh cup of coffee before her on the table.

"I think you mean _our _home, dear Samuel."

"I lived here first," Samuel chides, ignoring the angry look she sends him but donning an angry look of his own all the same, "But whatever. First we have to deal with the two hippies, now a bunch of Artemis rejects too?! Gods, can I ever catch a fucking break around here?!"

"I ask my self the same thing," This time the voice comes from the stairwell past the living room. A young man with blonde hair and piercing eyes like seems to change color from blue to brown to green and every color in-between.

"Perry Mason. Fulltime investigator, apparently, and an expert on this group of attackers. Still not sure why ya'll need me, but I guess I _am _the closest thing anyone's seen to a genius. Dumb dumbs like you always need to hire an expert, which means that I get some good money from your idiocy."

Samuel's eyes narrow and he growls, rolling up his sleeves and making his way to Perry with the promise of smashing his head in. Unconcerned, Perry stands too and raises his chin defiantly.

Sarah gets between the two of them and holds them back with surprising strength for her size, "Hey-hey-hey! Enough of that, you brats! We're here to work together! Perry, stop antagonizing people! Sam, stop falling for taunts! Gods, it's like dealing with two children instead of grown men!"

Samuel grumbles and backs away. Perry huffs and sits back down on the steps. Sarah crosses her arms across her chest and huffs a few times, her cheeks flushed red from her outburst.

She turns to Hylla, and her red cheeks now flush in faint embarrassment. Her Queen grins at her, a single eyebrow raised with curious amusement.

"Thata' girl. Way to put them in their place." She turns to Samuel, "Sorry to say this… but we've got another one."

Samuel's shoulders sag dramatically, "Godsdammit, already?! I've barely gotten better from that car crash-"

Hylla's head snaps to Samuel, but he continues unaware of her furious glare, "-and now another Olympian is already up my ass! Fine, who is it this time?!"

"…You got Hermes. He's in the kitchen with Samson. I think they're trying to bake or something."

Samuel curses loudly and races through the conundrum of people traveling back and forth through his home. Hylla rolls her eyes and continues looking over the documents splayed out before her.

"You're absolutely sure of this?"

Sarah nods, "One-hundred percent. My queen, the symbols we've deciphered match the same one of a group we once encountered nearly three queens ago. The more we look the more signs that pop up in other places throughout history. My Queen, I have it on good intuition this cult has ties to at least three major industries, one of which is a steel company based out of Japan. They produce a unique form of metal known as 'Black Iron', we have no data beyond that on the material. However, we do know that the company has ties to at least one location in the southern part of Texas."

Sarah hands Hylla a sheet of paper, and the queen pales as she recognizes the location as well as which faction runs and operates it.

"Sarah… this 'industry'… this is ran by Gargareans."

Her underling clutches her report to her chest and nods stiffly.

"…Have Perry look into this. We can't have this tied back to us, or we might have a war with the Gargareans. Meanwhile keep the girls busy, find out as much as you can from our end."

Sarah salutes her queen and runs off to Perry's side. Hylla sighs and rubs her temples. An ancient order of… something is still operating after nearly eighty years of silence, and now they're tied to an unknown export operated by the Amazons former enemies, or so she hopes.

The balance of peace sits on a razors edge. One mistake and Hylla could start a war only months after the last. If that were to happen, then she's not sure who would be the victor.

She'll keep this quiet for the time being. Her Samuel is busy with his business, she can handle hers. After all, she's the Queen of the Amazons, who could touch her now?


	14. Still a Better Love Story

**A/N: Hey guys, chapter fourteen here. Hope you guys enjoyed the new character introduced last chapter, and yes, Perry Mason is totally intentional as a name. Not much more to say, hope you guys enjoy this one.**

* * *

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Samuel slams through the doorway into the kitchen. He seethes in anger, prepared to even kick Hermes' ass for the mess he likely made in his kitchen.

The door slams open, and Samson and Hermes give Samuel odd looks as he fumes and rants at them.

"Uh… is he okay? Is that what mortals call a seizure?"

Samson pulls the cake from the oven and prepares the icing, completely unfazed by Samuel's tantrum.

"No, it's just something he does. I've been here a few weeks, you get used to it."

Hermes raises an eyebrow, "Huh, glad my kids aren't total psychos. Eris's spawn tends to turn out pretty messed up. Like mother like son, huh?"

"Hey!" Samuel raises his middle finger, "Who's bastard was it that tried to destroy the world and resurrect Kronos?!"

The God of thieves' mouth shuts tight and fire literally burns in his eyes. Samuel scowls and crosses his arm, bravely standing up to the furious Olympian.

Brave, or just stupid, Samson doesn't really know. All he knows is Hermes is half a second away from blasting Samuel into gore, and he really doesn't want to handle the remaining tasks solo.

Samson puts a hand on Hermes shoulder and hands him a freshly iced cake, "Here's a slice. Icing's still warm."

The fire in his eyes vanishes, instead leaving furious blue eyes in their place. Hermes takes the cake and angrily eats the pastry, grumbling and pouting like a child. Samuel rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the high table.

Hermes moves at sits across from him, anger still visible on his face, and Samson follows suit and sits next to the Olympian.

For a few moments the atmosphere is tense, not that Samuel notices nor cares. Samson finds it incredibly lucky that his godson is still alive. Even if Hermes is known as being one of the nicer Olympians, he's still a powerful god and notably fierce with handing out punishments.

He expects Samuel to receive some form of curse later on. Or at the very least a nasty bout of bad luck.

"Okay, boys, this conversation doesn't leave this table," Hermes starts, his voice deadly serious, "I've run into a bit of a pickle, and this is a good opportunity to handle it _and _clear another one of your trials along the way."

Samuel leans forward, eyes focused despite his body language being uninterested. Samson doesn't feign his interest, and Samuel thinks that's one of the first mistakes one makes when dealing with gods.

"As you can see, my Caduceus is not with me. In fact, it's been stolen-"

"Hold up," Samuel starts, "Didn't this happen before?"

Hermes face is stony and silent.

"Percy told me about it one time. Cacus stole it from you, I think."

Samson jumps up in interest, "Did you say Cacus?! The bastard's back?!"

"Percy and Annabeth killed him," Samuel glances at Samson carefully. That's the most emotion he's felt from the god in the time he's known him, "This was before the giant war so maybe he's back? I don't know. I never heard anything about him during the war. Likely even if he came back, he was killed on the attack at Camp Jupiter. What's your interest?"

Samson glowers in his seat and leans back. No tears prick his eyes, but Samson's heart aches in pain at the sudden resurgence of the memory.

Hermes remains silent, but he remembers the whole affair like it was yesterday. Only a few gods on Olympus payed attention to Samson at the time, Athena made sure of that. He was one of the few who managed to hear about her secret plans and took an interest in the then demigods adventures.

Not that he was involved in anyway. It was more interesting than anything on Hephaestus TV in that decade, and it was a welcome distraction from the years of rioting on Olympus.

"-Yes, smartass, you're right," Hermes gives Samuel a disapproving stare, "The giant did steal my Caduceus, but this is a different affair."

"You lost it again?"

Hermes slowly turns to Samuel and stares deeply into his red eyes. Samuel raises a curious eyebrow and waits to see what happens next.

Fast as lightning Hermes snaps his fingers and… nothing happens. Samuel feels no pain, not even the slightest hint of a bowel movement.

"There, you're cursed now. Have fun, asshole. Don't get too attached to anyone for a while."

Samuel slams his hands down on the countertop, "And the FUCK is that supposed to mean?!"

Hermes turns to Samson, completely ignoring Samuel's outburst, and continues where he left off.

"As I was saying, the giant Cacus stole my staff before, but it was recovered by Annabeth and Perseus. The giant was slain and I regained it until recently. Someone had stolen from me, ME, and made off with George and Martha while I was resting from the Second Gigantomachy. It took me some time, but thanks to one of the divination Orbs Samson made for us decades ago, I just recently found who's taken it."

"My Lord, if I may," Samson politely interrupts Hermes, "You haven't recovered your staff yet, so that means whoever has it can fight you off. How is it that Samuel and I can fight something like that if even you can't take it back personally?"

"Oh, I can take it back no problem," Hermes deadpans, "I just don't want to. Do you know how embarrassing it is to actually have to be the one to get it? It becomes a public affair, and I'd never hear the end of it!"

Samson hides his face in his hands and sighs deeply, "Gods, he's just like Eros!"

Hermes continues, ignoring the barb Samson whispered about him, "A powerful Vrykolakas returned to the overworld after Gaea opened the Doors of Death and released a bunch of monsters. He goes by the name of Abner and he was…"

The god sighs, his piercing eyes notably dulling, "-he used to be my son."

A chilling silence flows over the room, Hermes' sad emotions literally filling the room with an aura of despair.

"Goddamn," Samuel deadpans, "Why the fuck does all your kids end up legit evil?"

Samuels' head snaps to the side and his body is knocked from the chair. He coughs a few drops of blood from his mouth and slowly pulls himself back into his chair. Hermes gives him a smug smile, and Samuel promises himself not to speak until the Olympian leaves. Hermes slapped Samuel so fast neither Samson nor him even saw it!

"Keep talking shit, you keep getting hit. Understand?"

Samuel grumbles and glowers in his chair. Hermes snaps his fingers and a bottled energy drink appears in his hands, "Good, now, where was I?"

"Your son, the Vrykolakas?"

Hermes nods, "Yes… my son. Anyways, Abner has stolen my staff and made off to an island in South America. Look for the Isla de los Estados, that's where he'll be."

Samson nods politely, "Excellent. We'll get right on it. I've already got a boat moored in the harbor, we can get there within a few days."

The Olympian awkwardly scratches behind his ear, "Just a heads up, he's not alone. Vrykolakas have an uncanny ability to gather people to them. He will not be alone."

Hermes gives his two wards a grim look before vanishing in a burst of light. Samuel exhales deeply and rubs his sore jaw, "Well… fuck me, then."

* * *

Samson pulls his van to a stop in the wharf his ship, _The Gauntlet, _is neatly docked at. Samuel examines the wharf and the boat, scrunching his nose in displeasure.

The Boston Harbor doesn't maintain a nice smell, quiet the opposite. The waters are dirty and churned from the high traffic of various sized vessels moving in and out day in and day out. A large warehouse-like building rests in a lot besides the main ramp. The material and craftsmanship of the construction were shoddy at best, the whole building looks cobbled together rather than actually planned.

The ramp leading to the white and red vessel is in serious disrepair, rust creeps up the metal and it audibly groan with each passing wave.

At least the boat Samuel will be traveling on is in remarkable shape. The paint coating the hull is shiny and clean, almost like it's brand-new. There are visible guns of many sizes littered about the deck, something a violent sociopath such as himself is more than happy to test out later, and the command tower has new, advanced looking equipment built into it.

Samuel steps out of the van and gazes happily at the boat, "Now that's what I'm talking about! Riding in style!"

"Don't get any ideas," Samson says, "We used most of our ammo long ago, and if you aren't aware people don't _just _sell bullets and cannon shells on the open market. I'm already in hot trouble for taking this from the coast guard, I don't want to do anything that'll draw their attention again."

The son of Eris scoffs, "Pussy. Fine, whatever. What's the plan then? We sail to this island, knock some teeth in and take the staff back, lickity split? The hell is a Vry-whatever, anyway? Never heard of it before."

Samson knocks on the 'door' of the warehouse structure and sags his shoulders, "…A Vrykolakas is a kind of undead. Think a beast-like vampire, only much more dangerous than any other blood sucker."

Samuel's eyes narrow, "A vampire, huh? Not sure if you know this, but I'm pretty certain if that thing even _bites _me, I'll become one. We need an _actual _plan then, there's no way in hell I'm turning into a vampire for this mission!"

"You won't turn into a vampire, idiot," Samson says, "That's a myth. You become a vampire after death because of circumstances, they can't force you to become one. That's the werewolf's thing. Vrykolakas are cursed undead, like a Revenant, they're like any other monster."

Samson's eyes dart to the side, "…Though, just to be safe, we need a potion just in case you get bit."

Samuel rolls his eyes and follows Samson inside the shack as the door opens.

* * *

"It's the boss!" Someone _screams _as soon as Samson enters the dilapidated shack. Samuel scowls as the stench of beer and random food reaches his nose.

_Gods, it stinks like the Ares Cabin!_

A dozen _gorgeous _women scamper up from their various places of sitting and surround Samson, more than one making lewd suggestions to the new god. To Samuel's surprise, Samson remains stoic throughout the whole ordeal.

"Nymphs?"

His companion shakes his head, "Naiads," The word chokes out with some difficulty, "They're… my crew, and our guides to the island."

Samuel groans and peels away from the horde. Samson desperately tries to handle the increasingly handsy crowd, fighting to emerge from the other end.

"OI! GIRLS!"

The horde of Naiads whine and return back to their previous activities. One single, much larger Naiad with an eyepatch on one eye, and a fierce blue color to the other.

Clearly, she's the captain of the whole bunch.

_Not bad to look at either, _Samuel admits to himself. Obviously his Hylla is _much _better.

The big Naiad throws her arms out and offers Samson a big, toothy smile, "Samson! Get yer' arse over here!"

She scoops Samson into a bone crushing hug. Literally. Samuel can actually hear the bones in his back popping from the intense embrace.

Samuel watches the two embrace like long lost friends. It's easy to guess that they are friends, and likely have been for a long time since according to Samson, he was born in nineteen forty-nine.

"Any of you nerds want to tell me what's going on around here?"

Samson and the Naiad turn and look at Samuel. The Naiad gets a strange look in her eye (the other's covered by an eyepatch) and a sly smirk dons her face.

"Well-well, would ye' look at this. What's up handsome? Why don't you stick around?"

Samuel feels filthy for some reason. He shivers and takes a few steps back. The Naiad frowns and puts her hands on her hips before turning away and scoffing. Samuel just rolls his eyes at her boorishness.

Samson gets the Naiad's attention, "Ornea, sorry to bug you again, but we need to take the boat out again. We've got," He grimaces, "-we've got a mission from Hermes."

The now named Ornea winces in sympathy, "Ouch, doing anything for that guy _sucks! _I'll round up the girls and get the boat ready. Where're we heading?"

"The Isla de los Estados, in South America."

Ornea's silent for a moment before a big grin snakes across her face, "We're going on a tropic vacation?! I need to get my hat!"

She bodily throws Samson against the wall and races upstairs. Samson groans and pries himself free from the wall.

"Ugh, damn Naiad. Anyways, Samuel, I'll be back in a minute. I've got an idea for how to keep you safe from the vampires."

"Better be something that _actually _works!" Samuel snaps, causing an eyeroll from Samson, "If I die, I'm coming back to kill you!"

"Yeah-yeah, death and damnation," Samson dismisses, "Just don't break anything. I'm pretty certain this shack is a strong breeze from collapsing."

* * *

"Hey, hey! Look at me."

_Just ignore her, Laila, just ignore her. She's like a puppy… with monster teeth and a snake tail. Also, she's physically stronger than you somehow._

"Laila! LAILA!"

Laila growls and throws her pint of ice cream across the room and turns around and glares at her younger sister.

"WHAT!"

Daisy displays her middle finger with a happy smile, her sharp teeth smirking a shit eating grin.

"Fuck you!"

Before Laila can grapple her sister, Samson appears from the mystic doorway hidden inside of his van.

Yes, Laila finds it hilarious that Samson's enchanted house's only entrance is through a shaggy curtain Samson hid inside of his old hippie van. Of course, she doesn't care _too _much since she doesn't go outside. Or hang out with friends. Or have friends.

If she's being honest, Laila's a bit of a loner.

"A bit?"

"SHUT UP DAISY!"

Ehem, as she was saying, Laila's a loner. For a while, Samson's house was empty save one or two people. But now? Now there's well over a dozen.

First it started with a horde of _annoying _Nymphs that ransacked her home and took up residence I the forest. Then it was an _actual fucking Titan _deciding to live in the attic, and just a day ago Eros himself appeared and is now hogging the entire couch to himself!

Ugh, at least her annoying little sister is here too. She'll take a familiar face over another new one any day.

Speaking of familiar faces, Samson approaches her and her sister.

"Good, here you are. I need a potion, something to keep someone safe from a vampire."

Daisy and Laila exchange looks, "Daisy, do we still have Black Blood?"

The younger lamia shakes her head, "No, but we should be able to make some more. You've got immortal blood so you'll be fine, Vampires die instantly if they drink godly blood."

"It's not for me," Samson says, "I need it for a demigod… _friend _of mine."

"Oh, well we'll make some for him, then. Honestly, Black Blood is more of an emergency deterrent than a proper protection. It'll make their blood deadly to Vampires, but that doesn't mean the blood loss won't kill him anyway. Don't rely on this stuff, it's not a cure for anything he might contract."

A look of horror crosses Samson's face, "Wait… you _can _become a vampire from getting bit by one?!"

Laila scoffs, "Please, that's a myth! Only werewolves transmit their curse through infection. Vampires are undead and are engorged with various states of blood, that means they carry all sorts of diseases. The subject could get anything from aids to super rabies. Keep that in mind."

"Super rabies?" Samson questions, "What's that?"

"I thought you were smart, it's obvious! Super rabies is magically enhanced rabies, you'd need a druid or something comparable to cure it."

The Son of Athena grimaces, "Oh god, I can't even imagine what Samuel would be like if he had rabies!"

Laila and Daisy stare at him with blank expressions, "Right… well, have fun!"

* * *

"…So… what do you guys do for fun around here?"

Ornea, who is now donning a large wicker sunhat on her head, turns to Samuel.

"Usually we take the boat out for joyrides. Or blow crap up with the guns."

Samuel perks up, "Oh?... Do you think we can do that?... Like _now?!"_

Ornea grins and puts a finger to her lips, "Don't tell Samson… but _fuck yeah!"_


	15. Vampire Island

**A/N: Hey guys, back with another chapter. Sorry uploads are not too often right now, work can be a real kick in the ass, sometimes. Anyways I'm back with another chapter and this one'll be some good, actiony fun. Please, enjoy.**

* * *

The trip to the Isla de los Estados was not a very long one, nor was it very eventful, either. That's not all too surprising to Samson, you don't often find many monsters in the air nor on the sea. Well, you can find them in the ocean if you've pissed Poseidon off, but he's a pretty chill dude so no worries.

Samuel himself did _greatly _enjoy the several days long journey to the island located at the very tip of South America. To his surprise, the island they're traveling to is remarkably cold despite the lack of apparent snow.

Samson told him that the island isn't too far from Antarctica, and that he should be prepared for walking through the jungle _and _the snow _and _the rain.

Yeah… he just told him to go stuff it, and that a little weather won't mean much to him.

Boy, how wrong he was!

"IT'S… FUCKING… COLD!" Samuel's teeth chatters as he and his companion pull to the shore in a small dingy boat, "W-WHY DIDN'T YOU BRING ANOTHER COAT?!"

Something heavy collides with the back of his head. Samuel curses and grabs the item, displeased to see it's a fluffy, and wonderfully warm looking coat. He curses and angrily puts on the article.

He catches a brief glimpse of a smirk on the Athena spawns face, but he quickly stomps past him and approaches a large clearing where he starts setting up a small bunch of equipment.

Samuel comes around his side and sets the map of the island on the foldout table he brought with. He scans over the map, using the atlas and analogue on the side to try and cross examine possible locations the Vrykolakas is hiding.

"Here," Samuel points to a small settlement on the northern coast, "This looks like a small Naval base, if that! Only a small squad could man the place realistically. My map doesn't have any information about cave or coves on the island, but this place should!"

A small penguin jumps on the table, scaring the crap out of the two boys. Samuel smacks the penguin away, and Samson instantly chastises him.

"Hey! Watch it with the wild life! This is a conservation island, not a private murder resort!"

Samuel rolls his eyes, "It's a penguin, no one cares!"

Samson steps back aghast, "It's an endangered species, asshole!"

"Whatever. Listen, if there's any chance we've got to figure out where this stupid vampire lives, then we _need _to get information from that base!"

"Alright," Samson agrees, "Lead the way."

* * *

Trekking through the island forest to the northern coast wasn't necessarily hard, but it was far from pleasant. The ground was nearly mountainous and rocky, nary a walkable path for humans in it. Both are glad none of the monsters on the island came out to attack them, they would've been at a terrible disadvantage and may have even been killed if they were ambushed.

Samuel's nerves were on edge during the whole hike, his eyes darted from dark shadow to dark shadow while he led himself and his companion through the woods.

Samson was very impressed, not that he voiced it, at Samuel's ability to guide through an unknown forest with remarkable stealth and tactical ability.

He has a feeling that even Artemis would be impressed with his woodsman abilities. Samuel seems to be one with the wild.

They continued their way straight through the forest. The small base, though Samuel regards it more as a small, four-man outpost, lies hidden in a fjord overlooking of the north coast. Samuel is taking them to an overlook _overlooking _the overlook.

Samuel wants a tactical overlook of the camp before they try and commandeer the outposts information.

With careful footing and a few last-minute rock-climbing techniques from Samuel, the two boys climb to the peak of the overlook peering into the fjord the base is hidden in.

Calling the 'base' anything more than a long shack would be lying. The top of the shack is a weather resistant metal with various equipment leading up the walls of the fjord, likely monitoring equipment of some kind, but nothing too serious.

"Here's the plan," Samuel starts, "I'm going to rappel down and sneak in through the back."

Samson nods, letting Samuel continue his plan, "Then I'll grab their maps of the island and climb back up."

After a few minutes of prep-work, Samuel's rappel is attached to a stake in the ground and ready for work. He tosses the rope down the fjord and slowly and stealthily makes his way into the dark abyss.

"Samuel," Samson calls out before he can get too far, "Try not to kill anybody!"

It's half-joking, but Samuel knows for a fact his _godfather _is some part serious. He flips off the other boy and slowly slides down into the darkness.

* * *

The 'base' really is just a shack hidden in a hole. Scaling down the sides of the cliff walls was a simple task, the only hiccup was when he almost slipped and cracked his head open, but demigods have strong bodies and resilient skin, he regained a hold of his rope and suffered only _minor _burns to his hands.

God what he would do for a bottle of Aloe Vera right now!

He silently drops to the rocky floor and blends in with the shadows, his jacket further enhancing his stealth by casting a minor illusion to darken the shadows around him, truly making him several times harder to detect by monster standards and totally unnoticeable to an oblivious mortal.

Samuel comes around the back of the base and curses when he finds it has no backdoor!

Inside he can clearly hear four men chattering away. They speak in Spanish, which unfortunately he can't understand, so he has no idea what they're speaking about.

The men chatter away for a few more minutes before something Samuel recognizes vaguely as a goodbye comes from two of the four. He hears a door open followed by two sets of footsteps stomping out onto the rocky path leading to the coast further down.

_Now's my chance, two I can handle no problem!_

He waits a few more minutes to ensure that the two men who left are far away before enacting his plan. Samuel takes his gun from his holster and knocks on the back wall of the shack.

Soon enough he can hear the voices of the two men inside, both clearly confused, but also interestingly, they're frightened.

_What would they be scared of? _He questions himself, _There's no predators on the island except for Orcas, unless… unless maybe they know that a colony of something unnatural is here, too?_

He shakes his head free from his pondering and waits in the shadows. Just as he expected, two men dressed in winterized military attire come rushing around the side of the shack. They carry automatic weapons with them, but even then he can see fear in their eyes.

Coming around the back of them, Samuel prepares to knock them both over the head with his gun when suddenly man whips around with a strangle cry and pulls the trigger of his gun.

Once again Samuel thanks his mom for the wonderful coat she gave him. The magically enhanced material of his specially enchanted jacket stops the bullets even as they hit him point blank.

The winter jacket Samson gave him is torn up by the wild bullets, and Samuel angrily curses the mortal for ruining the one thing keeping him at least _slightly _warm on this icy island!

Before the shocked man can do anything else, Samuel rips the gun from his hands and delivers a _crushing _kick to the man's middle. He goes flying and crashes into the rocky wall several feet away.

His buddy tries to bash Samuel's brains in with the stock of his gun, but Samuel catches it and knuckle punches the man in the throat.

He chokes and clutches his throat, and Samuel quickly delivers a fiercely powerful haymaker into the side of his head. He collapses like a sack of bricks, and only a couple seconds later does Samuel realize he's freaking cold again!

Samuel looks down at the two unconscious men, "Huh, which of two wants to make a trade?"

* * *

"…What happened to your jacket?"

Samuel gives Samson a weird look, "The bullets, duh?" He's quiet for a moment, "Wait… you heard the gun, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING?"

Samson shrugs, "I figured you'd be okay. Honestly, I'm surprised you let them get the better of you. I thought you were _one with the shadows?_"

"Haha, eat it up, asshole," Samuel gives Samson a bundle of maps, "Something's not right, though. These guys were way to jumpy even _before _we got here. They're used to jumping at shadows, literally. I think they know something's up, and if mortals know something's up, then for demigods it's bound to be crazy dangerous!"

The son of Athena is quiet for a second, "Well, we've got our own crazy and dangerous with us, so I think we'll be fine."

Samuel instantly punches Samson in the stomach. He laughs weakly a few times and stands back up, his stomach sore from the surprisingly powerful punch.

"Okay, okay, enough playing around. Let's take a look at these maps."

Samson unrolls the maps Samuel gave him on a flat stone. Both pour over the maps quickly, Samson translating the Spanish text and Samuel cross-referencing it with the other maps to fully understand the layout of the island.

"Here," Samuel points at a marked cave entrance confidently, "This is the only cave that hasn't been mapped. If they're aware of some spooky things going on and they don't want to go in this cave, I can guess confidently this is the Vampire's hideout."

Samson nods, himself coming to the same conclusion as Samuel. He opens the backpack he brought with him and fishes out a glass vial filled with a cloudy black solution. Samuel sniffs the elixir and scrunches his nose from the foul stench.

"Ugh, gods, the hell is that?!"

"This," Samson presents the potion, "Is your protection from the vampires!"

Samuel deadpans, even unconsciously taking a few steps back. Unfortunately, Samson follows each step back with a step forward.

"Drink it and you'll be safe if one bites you. It'll make your blood poisonous, that way at the very least none will try and suck up your blood. I've heard that a vampire hopped up on demigod is twice as dangerous, with this we can counteract that. I think. Daisy and Laila were kind of foggy on the specifics, but they said you _should _be fine, at least."

Samuel is still deadpanning, "No."

"Oh, c'mon, it's not poisonous! Well, it _is, _but only to blood suckers."

"No! You wanna know why?! I'm not drinking that shit! It looks like you liquified a demon, slapped some bullshit snake oil salesman pitch on it, and told me to bet my life on it working! I'm not drinking the stupid fucking oil!"

"…"

Samuel rips the potion from Samson's grip, "Give me the stupid thing!"

He gulps nervously, pinches his nostrils shut, and throws the potion back. Immediately he gags as the black liquid touches his tongue. Some of the fluid is squirts from his mouth, but in a remarkable show of willpower he swallows the elixir in one big gulp.

"Ahhhhhh!" He throws the empty vial to the ground and screams before panting like a starved beast, "Okay… Okay… I'm good."

A foul burg escapes his lips, "Oh, nasty! I can taste it again!"

Samson reaches into his back pack again and pulls out a bottle of water and hands it to his comrade, "Here, this might help."

Samuel snatches the water and greedily slurps the whole bottle down, "Okay, we've got a destination now. What's the plan? Go kick some vampire ass?"

Samson holds an open palm up, and a small ball of fire appears above his skin, the wisp harmlessly dancing along his hand.

"I'm a pyromancer, I outta be the man on point. You shoot them in the head, I burn the body before they can regenerate. We'll be in tight quarters in the cave, we'll have to be careful and watch our backs, otherwise we'll be outmaneuvered."

"Great," Samuel says sarcastically, "At least that stupid potion'll keep me safe if one bites me. Fine, let's get to that cave and get that stupid staff! I want off this island and somewhere warm as soon as possible!"

"And on that, we agree. Let's go before night falls, I can't imagine this place will be any safer when the sun's gone."

* * *

The sun reached it's midpoint when the duo finally reached the vampire's cave. Instantly the two feel their senses going off, their battle instincts are already primed and the most dangerous thing they've seen has been a couple of whales a mile out to sea.

They turn and look at one another, then back to the pitch-black hole carved into the side of the mountain, "Yeah, this is the place."

Samuel reaches a hand out to the cave entrance, "After you, Mr. Pyromancer!"

Samson rolls his eyes and takes the first, uncertain step into the lion's den. Samuel removes his gun from the holster and readies himself for one hell of a fight.

They travel what must be hundreds of feet through the winding, tight corridors of the cave. Not a single sound besides the two can be heard, but Samuel still keeps his eyes trailed firmly behind them.

"_How you holding up?" _Samson whispers, _"Can you see fine?"_

"_Yeah, I've got natural night vision. How the hell can you see?! Athena spawn are only good for thinking, they've got no cool powers or abilities!"_

Samson kicks Samuel in the shin, _"Asshole! I'm a deity and a mage, my senses are far more advanced than even a demigod's. I can see in this cave just as well as I can outside. It's… kind of unnerving, like, I __**know **__it's dark, but I can see just fine. I don't know, uncanny valley sort of thing."_

"_You get used to it," Samuel says, "Weird stuff happens to me all the time. I still like my meat barely cooked even now."_

"…_What?"_

Samuel shakes his head, _"I'll tell you later."_

The two travel further down the tunnel, when suddenly they see a faint light flickering around the corner. They both look at one another and sigh, there's no other path, and the way forward is almost certainly a trap.

They follow the light into a large chamber, torches line the wall, a fancy, gas burning chandelier hangs from the ceiling, a single, long wooden table rests in the middle of the room, silver and plate ware neatly set up and ready for use.

The entire room is tidy and cozy, even a large rug and ornate rug covers the majority of the space, other random decorations litter about the chamber, each placed in a way that shows the setter is aware of what looks 'nice' even in modern times.

That, however, is not what draws the eyes of the two Sam's. No, what has their attention is that the room is occupied by a host of vampire and vampire-like monsters.

Three lamia, the species, not _Lamia _the person, use their tales as stools and patiently wait to one side of the table. Six Empousai sit patiently on fancy, wood carved chairs opposite the snake women, hands folded neatly in their laps and pleasant, yet still unnerving smiles on their faces.

Farthest away from the Sam's, sitting patiently at the head of the table is a creature that causes a brief flash of anxiety to run through Samuel's veins.

At first, the Son of Eris thought it was a werewolf, but further inspection proves it's something much worse.

Like a werewolf, it has the head, ears, and fur of one, but the fur is patch as though it has a horrible case of mange. It's arms and legs are hairless and completely pale, its stomach is bloated and looks ready to pop any second, the eyes are a milky white, as though it's blind, but the way it gazes at them proves that it can see just fine.

The limbs of the beast are also far longer than a werewolf, the five claws on the hands are much longer and far more dangerous than a werewolf's. Each claw is at least fifteen inches long and as sharp as a razor.

Then, there's the size of the beast. Most werewolves stand the height of a human hunched over, but this beast, even sitting down, stands several heads higher than Samuel, and he's a tall guy.

This is a Vrykolakas, a form of ancient vampire, more akin to a beast than a cursed human. Despite being a monster, the monster so far is nothing but patient and even pleasant with his manners.

"**Trespassers,"**The voice from the manged beast is calm, yet scratchy, like each word hurts, **"I welcome you to our home. You have business, yesss?"**

Samson feels a shiver run down his spine, but he takes a step forward and clears his throat, "We do. Our… sincerest apologies for our intrusion. Not to come off as rude, but we have it on good authority that Hermes's Caduceus has been taken here. If we can recover it, then we'll leave you to your business and be on our way."

The gaggle of vampires' hiss and murmur, each chattering between themselves in hushed tones. The Vrykolakas raises a clawed hand, and instantly the rest of them quiet down.

"**Mistaken… yes, you are mistaken. Once, it was here, but now it is gone. Taken, yes, taken by another. An old friend stole it, brought it here, promised to cure us, but failed. We sent him on his way, somewhere far-far-away. Your time is wasted, begone with you!"**

"Now hold up just a minute!" Samuel pushes Samson out of his way, "How do we know you're not lying?! Never trust a monster, everyone knows that!"

"Samuel!" Samson hisses, "What are you doing?!"

Samuel ignores him, "If you want us gone then give us proof! I want evidence this 'friend' of yours took the staff and left!"

The Vrykolakas hisses and rises from his throne, the rest of the gaggle following suit and chuckling darkly, licking their lips and half-moaning, half hissing between themselves.

"**Grrr, arrogant spawn of that she-devil! We allow you into our home and you threaten us?! Hrmm, we'll never betray our friend, now you die!"**

Samson curses and launches a fireball at the Vrykolakas, launching the beast off its feet and slamming it into the far wall. Samuel unleashes a flurry of bullets from his rifle, striking two of the Empousai dead in a matter of moments before all hell breaks loose.

Samuel is lifted from his feet by a crushing, invisible force, and thrown into a nearby wall with incredible force. He falls to the ground and weakly gasps, his lungs desperately trying to pump air back into his body.

He watches Samson get thrown by the same force into the waiting claws of the lamia who eagerly start clawing at the Son of Athena.

A shimmering form appears in Samuel's vision, like the air is almost… moving and distorting his sight somehow?

Suddenly it clicks in his head. It's invisible!

Samuel takes his gun in hand and aims low at the shimmering air. His bullet strikes true as it travels clean through the Vrykolakas's ankle in a shower of visceral blood.

The invisibility spell on the vampire falls as it _screams _so loudly the chamber shakes from the fury. Samuel pushes himself back to his feet and slowly advances on the monster, firing bullet after bullet into the body of the vampire.

"GOD. DAMN. OVERGROWN. DOG. WHY. WON'T. YOU. _DIE?!" _Each bullet hits the vampire in a mortal spot, but the resilient creature refuses to die. After many moments, Samuel stops firing and puts his gun away, instead summoning his flaming cutlass from its ring form and wielding it as his weapon.

The blue fire dancing along the length of the golden Spanish Cutlass casts harsh shadows through the chamber. All that Samuel can hear is the quiet crackling of the fire, and the pained grunts of his foe.

With a fierce growl, the Vrykolakas rises to its feet. The holes in the vampire's body slowly start to close, the bullets trapped in the body are forced out and drop to the stone ground with small clanks.

"Alright, you overgrown mutt. LET'S FUCKING DO THIS!"

The Vampire roars loudly once again, but Samuel matches the roars with one equally fierce and charges the beast with fire in his heart.

* * *

Let it be known, Samson is not having a good day. First it starts with him being dragged to a near arctic island, then when he has the _one chance _to not have to fight any sort of horrible monster, his godson flaps his lips and pisses of a gaggle of very dangerous vampire in their own home.

Then, if that's not enough, he gets tossed by an invisible vampire into a crowd of other smaller, but no less hungry vampires.

In the first three seconds, Samson counts himself being scratched and bit at the very least one hundred times by three Empousai and lamia.

He's quiet lucky an immortals body is so resilient, the scratches and bites are surface level only, and none could pierce his chest of his neck thanks to _Juggernaut, _his invincible track jacket.

However, that means they scratched and bit _the shit _out of his arms and legs.

Samson summons fireballs in his hands and lets them explode point blank on his body, launching the hungry crowd away from himself and giving him a few moments to recover his bearings.

He pulls a small metal pole from his pocket and wills it to reveal its full glory. The gaggle of vicious predators approach far more carefully when they sense the aura of Cyclops lightning humming in the legendary spear.

Understanding the weapon is the bane of dragons and all serpentine beings, the three lamia abandon their fellows and vanish in a self-contained torrent of fire.

"COWARDS! TRAITORS!" Cries the three Empousai, but Samson ignores them and launches after the nearest daughter of Hecate. She yelps in shock and quickly dodges the first stab, launches out a bronze leg at Samson in hopes of crushing the bone.

The Son of Athena pirouettes around the kick and bashes the demon in the head with the pole of his spear.

His instincts flare up, and he quickly jumps high into the air as two Empousai try and tackle him. They miss him, and instead crash into their sister. The hungry demons seem to have gotten carried away with themselves, instantly tearing their sister apart until she dies and turns into a pile of golden dust.

The two Empousai stare at the remain horrified and spin around and glare at Samson, "YOU KILLED OUR SISTER!"

"No, I did not," Samson says as a matter of fact, "You two did. Besides, I'm actually married to your sister. Not her, mind you, I'm married to my beautiful wife, Mori. Though you might recognize her formerly as the Witch in the North."

The flame-haired demonesses eyes go wide, and quickly they use their magic to teleport away in bursts of fire. Samson sighs and leans on his staff.

"Phew, that wasn't so bad! How you handling, Samuel?... Sam?"

He turns and watches in horror as the Vrykolakas holds Samuel to the ground with a grip of iron and greedily sucks his blood with its yellow fang.

Before Samson can toss his spear, the vampire jumps away from Samuel and starts desperately clawing at its throat. The bestial vampire even starts ripping its guts open with its long claws, spilling its blood and guts which spontaneously catch fire that burns black.

"**AGHHH! TRICKS! DECEPTIONS! RUN, ABNER! FLEE!"**

Then, in a brilliant display, the body catches black fire, the vampire extends its arms out to the side, like a cross, and howls loudly.

As quick as it started, its over. The body collapses into itself and burns for a few more seconds until all that's left is a few smoldering bones and ashes.

Samson quickly rushes to Samuel's side and feels his neck. It's weak, but he can feel a pulse.

"Stay with me, man!" He takes _Ram _in bandana form and presses it to Samuel's chest. Faint golden light emanates from the article and absorbs into Samuel's body.

After a few seconds, the wound on Samuel's neck stiches shut and his pale flesh slowly gains a peachy color.

Samuel's eyes snap open and he shoots up with a shout, "Ahhh! Fuck me, dude!"

"No thanks," Samson jokes, "What were you thinking?! Why would you let it bite you?!"

He winces from the shouting, "Keep it down, dude, my ears are still sensitive! And to answer your question, it was the quickest way to kill him! I saw you getting torn up by a bunch vampire and wanted to help out. By I guess I'm the bad guy?!"

Samson sighs and helps Samuel sit up, "That's not what I-!" He sighs and dons a small smile, "Thank you, Samuel. Now, let's get out of here. I want off this island, pronto!"

Samuel gives him a weak laugh, "Yeah, sounds good… dude."


	16. Lady of the Lake

**A/N: I'm just gonna come out and say it; My bad. I've been pretty lazy with this story for the past little while, my excuse is that I've been busy with life crap, which is part of it, but really I've been gaming hard. #lazyfuck. Anyways I think you guy's are gonna love this chapter, I know I sure as heck do.**

* * *

"Samuel, come over here. I think I've found something!" Samuel groans and makes his way into the side chamber Samson went into. Samuel was busy digging through the 'treasure room' if it could be called that. He's recently played a new video game, and he wanted to see if real life monsters have treasure rooms.

He was soundly disappointed. The vampires 'treasure' was a couple old swords, some stainless steel silverware, and a couple ceramic plates.

It took him a minute, but Samuel's pretty sure that was their pantry.

"Damn Dragonborn, lying to me like that! These vampires don't have shit!"

With a disappointed sigh, he steps from the treasure pantry and makes his way through the passage ways that Samson went down.

He swipes a torch from a nearby way and enters the room Samson's in.

"Find something?" He says with some irritation. His throat is _killing _him right now.

Samson angles a small, leather bound ledger in his hands, Samuel uses the torches light to skim the pages as Samson flips through them.

Each page is a dedicated entry to a specific vampire, as well as some general information on them. He sees things like age, species, approximate location, and status.

As Samson continues to flip through the pages, there being perhaps a total of just over one hundred, Samuel sees that only less than a handful of the vampires are listed as alive.

On over ninety of the pages, in big red letters someone stamped DECEASED over the status.

"This must be the masters way of tracking the other greater vampires around the world," Samson reasons, "Based on the general date of death written, they must recently have started going extinct. Within the span of a year, nearly all of them started dying. That must be why this bunch of vampires is hiding somewhere far off like this. I wonder what caused this, though?"

"Hmm," Samuel ponders, "I think it has something to do with Kronos."

He points to one of the death dates in the book, "Kronos had Luke as a host around this time, there's no way it's a coincidence that the year he was active was also the same year all of the greater vampires started dying off. What I want to know is why he killed them? As far as I know Vampires are usually solitary, the ones who were cursed mortals don't interfere with demigod affairs."

Samson nods slowly, "It's sort of depressing, watching all of your friends, basically your entire _people _suddenly die off over the course of a year."

Silence befalls the two Sam's, both know what it's like to lose your friends to the passage of time. Neither has to voice it, they know the feeling.

Samuel finds himself surprised he's actually _feeling sort of bad _for the vampire that just tried to suck him dry.

Don't take that out of context!

Samson flips through the pages until he finds a familiar name, "Here, the entry for Abner. The master wrote that he's going to… Washington State?"

Samuel reads the next part of the entry, "Mount Rainer National Park. That's where he's going, He's hiding somewhere on the mountain, if I were to guess. Despite how damming it is to have this book, it only helps so much. A mountain is a big thing, he could be anywhere up there."

Samson nods, it's a simple, yet clever system. If an enemy somehow gets their hands on the ledger, it would only help them so much. When the supposed hunter is tracking down the specific vampire, said vampire would've been hiding for decades in the general area.

Once they start looking around, the vampire would've sensed the intrusion and have left long ago.

An effective strategy, yet still, most of the names in the book have been written off as dead. If Kronos killed them, as Samuel believes, then why? Greater vampires are dangerous, hunting them specifically is more hazardous than it's worth.

Abner, of course, could employ the tactic of escape to find safety, but Samson believes he'll make an exception for them. After all, they did just kill his friends, and vampires are known to be able to sense when one of their masters dies.

A small feeling of anxiety pools in Samuel's stomach, "Let's get out of here, this place is starting to give me the creeps."

* * *

Destination in mind, the Sam's made their way off the island and back to Samson's boat. They turned north, Ornea navigating them to the Panama Canal.

As Samson expected, save for a few natural storms, they never encountered any gods or monsters. As he hoped, nothing of significance happened. At least, not until after the fourth day of traveling north.

Ornea had just finished steering the boat through the Panama Canal when 'the event' happened.

Samuel, who had been complaining of flulike symptoms and dizziness, suddenly lost control of his mind and flew into a frenzied rage. All sense of his mind vanished completely, even words were beyond him in the state he was in.

He suddenly assaulted the nearest naiad to him with his bare hands. He nearly crushed her throat with his prosthetic hand, but Ornea was behind him in the nick of time and delivered a powerful pommel strike to the back of his head with her sword.

Quickly he was knocked out and the shaken naiad, save for a nasty ring of bruises around her neck, was ushered to some fresh water for healing.

Ornea had to race back to the command tower, leaving Samson to handle Samuel.

Samuel, before he could wake up, was rushed to the medical bay and bound and gagged to the cot. Moments later the chief medical officer burst into the room, blue eyes focused with determination.

For a brief moment, Samson was worried Samuel was turning into a vampire. The thought leaves his mind quickly when he remembers that two very credible sources told him that the vampires curse can't be transmitted through bite.

The doctor pushes Samson out of her way and efficiently begins her examination of Samuel's unconscious body.

After nearly fifteen agonizing minutes, she pulls away from Samuel and faces Samson with a harsh gleam in her eye.

She questions whether Samuel was bitten by an animal or a monster recently, and her harsh gleam turns into fierce frustration when Samson tells her he was bitten by a vampire.

The naiad growls to her self and runs an angry hand through her hair, "Dammit, just as I thought! Captain, he's contracted Super Rabies!"

…Samson's mind has to load for a few moments. One time he heard about there being 'super diseases' you can contract from monsters, but he wrote it off as being a stupid joke the Apollo campers would tell people.

"Is it… can we cure him? What if I use magic?"

The naiad shakes her head, "The only kind of magic you could use is underworld magic, which no one onboard can use. I've heard stories of famous alchemists from history developing treatments, but I don't know any of the recipes myself. Maybe we can… go to Ornea and tell her what happened, she should know who we can go to. In the meantime I'll stabilize Samuel and try and keep his brain as healthy as possible. If we can get the cure soon, he'll be able to make a full recovery."

Samson nods and races out of the medical bay, nearly throwing several naiads overboard as he makes his way into the command tower.

He throws the door with a heavy slam, "Ornea!" He screams, shaking Ornea from her concentration. The senior naiad startles and curses as the boat starts listing to the side. She struggles against the controls, but quickly regains control and balances the boat.

"Bloody fool!" She hisses, "Are ye' trying to sink us?!"

Samson shakes his head, "Not important. Ornea, Samuel's got, and I can't believe I'm saying this, he's got Super Rabies!"

Ornea curses, "Blackbeard's tits! Damn it all, hold on! I'm taking us back ashore! If ye wanna help him I've gotta find a calm lake or pond, fresh water! It's the only place I can use to summon us the help we need!"

She turns the boat back towards the shore, the outline of the jungle slowly increasing as the land gets closer. She radios a series of commands to her crew over the intercom. One of the other naiads takes her post at the command console, and Ornea turns to Samuel with a serious glint in her eye.

"Hope you're ready, we've gotta carry the boy with us through the jungle!"

* * *

Samson, Samuel, Ornea, Bones (the chief medical officer) and a few volunteer naiads form the shore party. Samuel was bound to a medical cot and gagged for everyone's safety, but unfortunately the anesthesia Bones used to keep Samuel complacent wore off astoundingly quick.

Even rabid and unable to use words, Samuel's still a major asshole.

Thanks to naiads innate abilities with fresh water, they could sense the necessary body of water within a radius of several miles.

Unfortunately, the water Ornea needs is several miles through the jungle.

"Hey, Ornea," Samson says all of the sudden, "You said you were summoning us help? If you don't mind me asking, who are they?"

Ornea smiles with glee, her blue eye shining in the limited light, "Her name is Nimuë, and she's **amazing**!"

"Huh," Samson says after a long pause. Normally Ornea holds no one to a high status in her mind, so call him surprised to be talking about someone she seems to _revere._

Though… the name Nimuë is familiar to Samson for some reason, but he can't quite remember why.

Ornea continues despite Samson's awkward pause, "She's a Limnad, a lake nymph, but not just _any _Limnad, she's THE Lemnad! As in the very first one! First generation daughter of the Potamoi, she's the _only _nymph still around to have personally met Oceanus and remembers everything about the former Golden Age of the Titans. Her powers are so strong she was **born **immortal with enough strength to rival Triton! She's as ancient as Helios and as wise as Metis. Nimuë is the status quo all nymphs strive to be like, the big sister we seek out when we're at out lowest. Samson, we don't just look up to her, she's our _idol._"

Samson isn't really sure what to say. On the one hand, he wants to talk to Nimuë about _everything _that happened during the Golden Age, his Athena brain is desperate for the knowledge, on the other hand, he's certain someone ancient like her would find it disrespectful to grill her on everything she knows.

He'll just have to accept it that experiencing her presence is enough. Not that he's happy with it, but it'll have to do.

Oh right, and Samuel's on a time limit, so he guesses he should handle that first.

Ornea chops a bundle of vines out of her way and smiles, "Everyone, we're here!"

Samson enters the clearing and finds his breath being taken away. In a perfect circle, surrounded by a gentle shore, lies the most beautiful pond he's ever seen.

The water is so still he feels as though he could walk on it, but at the same time he feels it would be offensive to disturb the peaceful water, as though it would be an offense to nature itself.

He and Bones lays Samuel's cot on the white, sandy shore, and to their surprise his manic, rabid self slowly calms down, as though he's being lulled to sleep.

Ornea kneels just before the waterline and places a hand against the surface. She fishes a small, silver idol necklace hidden in her chiton and holds it to her lips. She whispers a small chant in a language even Samson doesn't recognize and kisses the tiny idol.

For a few moments nothing happens, but Samson feels as if something in the world shifts, like the very Earth herself has awoken.

Samson hears gentle splashing and looks out across the water. Emerging from the crystal-clear water, he sees what has to be Nimuë herself.

He feels his breath being taken away as her gentle eyes make contact with his. Like Aphrodite, her beauty is captivating, but in a different way. Where Aphrodite's presence feels like raw passion, Nimuë feels gentle, like the careful embrace of a lover.

Her eyes are a light brown, like freshly tilled soil, her hair is a deep grain, like newly grown moss, and her skin is tinted a gentle green like grass. She only wears something akin to a skirt, or a loincloth, but Samson feels no lust at all. If anything, he feels completely comfortable with her little clothing, as though it is completely natural, like he should be just as nude.

Nimuë brushes a strand of hair from her face and carefully walks across the surface of the water until she's standing above Ornea. Samson's captain holds her head low in prostration, but Nimuë sighs sadly and speaks words as sweet as honey.

"_Do not hold your head low to me. I wish to see the eyes of those I speak to. Rise, dearest Ornea, share with me your woes."_

Ornea lifts her head and slowly stands, her height being just exact with Nimuë. Despite that, she slouches slightly to stand lower than her.

Samson senses sadness from Nimuë and guesses that she's not comfortable with being so revered. Ornea might kick his ass later for this, but he's going to do his best to speak with her like an equal.

"My lady," Samson probes carefully, Nimuë shakes her head, "Nimuë, then, I'm sorry to disturb you like this, but I'm not sure who else I can turn to for help. I'm sure you can sense it, but my… _companion _back here is suffering from an illness none of us can cure. Please, if you can help in anyway, I'll greatly appreciate it."

Nimuë's soft eyes trail over Samuel, an unknowing emotion sparkling in her radiant orbs, _"I myself cannot cure him, his illness is out of my domain."_

Samson looks down in sadness, but feels her light touch on his chin and angles his head up, meeting her soft expression.

"_Fret not, fellow deity. I cannot cure him with my powers alone, yet I know how he can be cured. Many centuries ago, a good friend of mine came to me, asking me to remember a recipe for a most wonderous potion. Myrddin, my old friend, crafted a cure for any disease, weaker than the Physicians Cure of legend but far easier to create, it was his final gift to the world before his betrayal at the hands of the witch Morgana. Such a shame, but it can't be helped. He still visits me in my dreams, you know? Still, I yearn for his touch. It's been… such a long time."_

Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle click in Samson's mind. Myrddin, Morgana, witches and wizards, the name Nimuë, it all makes sense now!

"Oh my gods," He says, unsure of how else to react, "You're the Lady of the Lake! You gave Uther Pendragon Caliburn and gave his son, Arthur, the right to rule as king! You're not just Nimuë, you're an actual legend!"

Nimuë looks away sadly, and Samson feels like punching himself in the stomach for bringing up what must be a sensitive topic.

"I'm… sorry."

She sighs and meets his gaze, a sad smile on her face, _"Fret not, my dearest. I suppose I should thank the old poets, my story helps inspire mortals, even if it's not __**completely **__correct. Yes, I am the lady of legend. The Lady of the Lake, and I must say, but no, thou shall not receive the sword of legend. I guard it even now, and in my possession it shall remain."_

Samson bows respectfully, but understands her reasons. It's clear that Nimuë is saddened by the loss of the figures of ancient past. In the old stories, Nimuë is known for having some form of relationship with characters from Arthurian legend, some even say she was lovers with them.

_A broken heart? _Samson thinks to himself, perhaps that's why she's sad? She fell in love with people, mortals, who have long since died, leaving her to wallow in loneliness.

He feels a twang of pity strike his heart, losing your loved ones while you continue on forever is such an aching feeling it's no wonder why someone as legendary as the Lady of the Lake seems somewhat depressed.

"_To cure your friend, I require several ingredients. One twig of enchanted Moly found only on the mountain Hermes was born. The Kibisis, in which the hero Perseus carried the severed head of Medusa, and finally, the venom of the creature which caused the illness. Bring them to a body of calm, fresh water and I shall create a potion capable of curing your dear friend. I shall grant you my blessing, so long as you feed him water blessed by yourself, he shall retain his mind for far longer than he should. Do not confuse this with a cure, something as vile as what he suffers from cannot be cured without the help of stronger gods. Go now, thou has one fortnight to gather the ingredients before his mind deteriorates forever. I wish you luck, Friend of Nymphs, and hold fast. The boy is far more important to you than you realize, do not waste your time lightly. Even he cannot last forever."_

Samson nods and reaches down into the calm, beautiful water. He takes a small scoop into his hands turns to Samuel. He looks at Bones and nods, she removes Samuel's gag and he bends down and drops the small scoop of water into his mouth.

Samuel chokes for a second before his eyes suddenly clear up and he rips his bindings off of the cot with a fierce shout.

"Gah, fuck! The hell is happening?!"

Samson scoffs, getting Samuel's attention, and motions to the tranquil gathering around him, "Welcome back, we've got work to do, otherwise you'll die."

Samuel throws his hands into the air dramatically, "Dammit! Not again!"


	17. The Staff and the Son

**A/N: It occurs to me that I might've misspelled the name of the national park these past few chapters. I'm pretty certain I've spelled it as 'Rainer' instead of 'Rainier'. My bad, please don't kill me for my ignorance, Sempai. Anyways, begone cringe. This chapter we'll wrap up Abner's story, but that's not the end for the Hermes trial. No one's asked, but I'm a chatty bat and I want to tell you guys anyways. The Vrykolakas was an undead from Greek folklore, and according to Wikipedia the origins of the word rounded down were related more to werewolves, but linguistic shenanigans happened and now a Vrykolakas is more attributed as a vampire. I didn't really dig deep that much, so I just decided to make the one we see in the story a kind of werewolf-vampire hybrid creature. Yeah, it's pretty cray cray, but that's what I ended up with. Anyways, enough rambling. Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

"What's the plan?" Samuel asks after many hours of silence. Samson glances at him, then turns his attention back to his notes.

After getting the news from the Lady of The Lake, the shore party rushed back to _The Gauntlet _and immediately set sail. Samuel was quiet the entire time until now, but he seemed unbothered by the news of his rapidly decreasing health and what must be accomplished to save him.

Samson guesses, based on his reaction from when he drank the blessed water, that this isn't the first time he's had to race against the clock to save himself or someone.

Just demigod things, he guesses.

"We grab Abner first," Samson starts, "He's the only one of three tasks actually in America. The other two are out in Greece, which we _should _be able grab quickly."

Samuel ponders on the plan for a few moments. Despite his calm exterior, he _is _concerned for his health. No Son of Eris should die some pussy way from a disease. If he's going down, it's facing an army of raging monsters! He's damn sure that dream is going to be reality! He refuses to go down from illness!

"We're _sure _that we know where everything is, right? Venom from Abner, easy, a flower from the place of Hermes' birth, easy, but a bag? How the hell are we supposed to know which bag to grab, or even if it still exists?! She said it was some bag Perseus had like a couple thousand years ago, how is that supposed to be around still?!"

"Because,-" The Son of Athena says casually, eyes unmoving from the map of ancient Greek city states he acquired from Ornea, "-It's me, and I know I'm not wrong about this. We're not looking for just any bag, we're looking for _the bag, _as in the bag Hermes owned personally and gave to the hero Perseus to store the head of Medusa in. The bag is godly, just like the Caduceus, so if the Lady of the Lake says we need it to make a cure than I'd rather put my faith in a bag like that than anything else."

"You know, I can't help but notice you've danced around the question of _where _it is!" Samuel says, voice inlaid with frustration, "This is my **life**, not that an immortal like you would care, but I'm not risking the thing most precious to me on chance alone! So stop acting like I'm a moron and fucking **tell me **where it is!"

Samson just sighs in response, "History makes little mention of the Kibisis. No stories every really tell of what became of the bag, and Camp Half Blood's records were mostly destroyed during the first Roman invasion of Greece. However, despite the time that has passed, no story ever mentions that the bag was lost in some way. All logic and knowledge of the ancient world points to the Kibisis being buried with Perseus upon death, he did become a king later in life. Most kings back then were buried with treasures, so it stands that his greatest treasures, one of which being the bag with Medusa's head, would be laid to rest with him."

"You're betting a lot on assumptions. How do you know the tomb hasn't been raided after all this time?! How do you even know where this tomb is at?! If you fail, and I die, expect my ghostly ass to come back and haunt you everyday for a hundred years!"

Samson finally turns and looks at Samuel, his silver-grey eyes hardened and focused, "Do you trust me?"

"No," Samuel says without missing a beat, "Not at all."

"If you want to live, then you're going to have to."

Samuel snarls, "Then I'll see you in hell!"

* * *

One day passed after Samuel's infection and he learned what he has to do to save himself, another day followed by several more. He has two weeks to find a cure, and already three days have passed. With speedy efficiency befitting spirits of water, the crew of Naiads hauled ass far more quickly and efficiently than any mortal or demigod except for Percy could accomplish.

Eleven days left to live, and finally Ornea pulls the boat in to dock at a port in Seattle. The Sam's depart from her company and they bid farewell. She won't have enough time to make it back around to the other side of the United States and take the Sam's across the Atlantic Ocean with reasonable time left for Samuel.

They'll have to manage by themselves.

"Take the ship back to the dock," Samson tells Ornea, "And send one of your girls ahead through the rivers. Have her send a message to Mori, tell her that we need transportation to Mycenae, she'll understand."

Ornea nods, "Got it. Want to send her with something else? Maybe a kiss for her?" She wiggles her eyebrows, but Samson just rolls his eyes and waves her good bye. Ornea bellows out a hearty laugh and commands her crew to set sail back to Boston.

"Why can't we just fly to Greece?" Samuel asks after the boat leaves their vision, "I've got more than enough money, and we wouldn't have to wait for your scout to get in contact with Auntie Mori."

Samson shakes his head, "We'd sacrifice most of a day if we did. Flying is convenient, but we need every hour we can get. Mori can teleport us to where we need exactly without travel time, instantly. That, and I can't imagine Zeus is all too happy with me flying anymore. Right, grandad?"

Instantly a bolt of thunder races across the sky, followed by a downpour of rain. Samuel groans and fishes an umbrella from his coat pocket.

He quickly orders a rental car from a nearby dealership, and the duo makes their way onto the highway towards the national park.

Samson, ever the immaculate thinker that he is, decided that before they go after Abner on Mount Rainier, they should seek out a local town in the foothills first and see if they can mine rumors or knowledge from locals. Perhaps even seek advice from them, Mount Rainier is one of the tallest mountains in the Americas and a semi-active volcano.

Begrudgingly, Samuel admits that it's a good idea. If the locals have any rumors and legends recently, then they'll know they're in the right area. To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy. He's not sure if that's the right quote, but by the gods it feels right!

Samuel pulls the car off a highway and follows signs leading them into a small town just outside of the foothills. He finds a local bar and pulls into a parking space out front. Everyone knows the best place to find rumors is the same place where people gather and get drunk. Nothing loosens lips quite like a bottle of spirits.

"You head to the back room, see if you can learn about the area," Samuel tells Samson, "I'll chat up the bartender, see if I can't pick up some rumors."

They enter the bar, gaining a few glances from the locals, and Samson splits off and heads towards a group of locals dressed in their climbing gear. Samuel approaches the bar and gets a weird look from the bar tender, but he pretends not to notice and orders a glass of wine (Don't give him that look! Wine has a better taste and greater alcohol content than beer!) and slowly mingles into good graces with the bar patrons.

"This place is a pretty good hangout," Samuel says to his fellows at the bar, he gets a few cheery mumbles in response, but one old guy raises a bottle of beer at him in cheers, "But I've gotta ask, rumor has it you have a monster in these parts."

The bar goes deathly silent, but Samuel maintains his ignorant tourist charade, "Like Mothman or something. See, my buddy and I are doing a cross country monster crawl, seeing if we can find a monster or something as we travel across the country."

"Then yer' a pair o' idiots," Voices the overweight old man sitting at the far end of the bar, "I been around this world long time, seen all kinds a' things. Men go up that mountain, they don't come back the same."

Samuel leans forward, eyes focused, "They come back wrong, mumbling and raving. The only thing in common they have is one word; Wendigo. It's what we call our beast, a demon that possesses the minds o' men and makes em' crazy, supposed to turn em' into cannibals."

"Do they?" Samuel asks, "Do they turn into cannibals?"

The old man shakes his head, "Nah, our monster may be a demon, bastard wasn't always one."

"Tell me about him, this monster." The old man grunts and takes a sloppy sip of his beer.

"Story comes from my grandad's grandad. Legend has it that back in the early eighteen hundreds a miner went up into the mountain, back when the Cowlitz Indians still were around, convinced he could find a horde of gold. He was warned by the Cowlitz chief that any white man who steals from the mountain will be cursed by the spirit of the mountain. The Miner wasn't a wiseman and went anyways. He was gone for a week, but eventually descended back from the mountain and stopped by in a local town hauling a sack full of gold. Poor fool shoulda listened. The men of the town he stopped at conspired to murder, and before the Miner left town, killed em' dead and stole the gold. They tossed his body into the wild and left it to rot while the took the gold to a trader at a nearby fort. See, the townsmen made a mistake of murdering the man. The Trader knew the Miner personally and was expecting him, so he knew instantly his friends was robbed and murdered. The Trader told the garrison commander and a militia was formed. By the end of the hunts twenty conspirators were hanged for murder, and the town was left to survive by itself without governmental help. See, the town's troubles were far from over. One week after the men were hanged, the townsfolk found the body of a missing man drained of blood and well feasted on. Over the next week, six more men were killed the same way. They went to their priest for guidance, but the holy man just sadly shook his head.

'God is punishing us for our sins. The Miner has become a demon and returned to feast on the blood of those who wronged him. Only when the last sinner lays dead will we find peace.'

The priest bid the townsmen farewell and left. Five more men were killed before peace came to the town again, but ever since then people been seeing a creature up on that mountain. People say they see a sickly coyote that walks like a man prowling the mountain, and if the creature sees you he steals your mind. Any smart man avoids the mountain, that creature is still up there. We respect the creature, the creature respects us. You wanna keep yer' sanity then stay clear that mountain! It's bad luck for a man to lose his mind, we all suffer for it."

Samuel nods and motions to Samson that they're done here, "Thank you, gentlemen, but we can handle this."

000

"So, he's a cursed demigod?"

"That's what it looks like. He got murdered by greedy townsmen and became a monster to get revenge. What I'm curious about is how… well, _peaceful _he seems. Some old man told me that he only turns people insane to hide his presence, the only people he's ever killed were his own murderers. Why in the world is a monster so pleasant to humans? Any other monster would be overjoyed at the situation; grab a hiker or two every so often as a snack and let people blame it on some ghost story or urban legend. What's the angle?"

"Hey! Don't talk about him like he's some beast," Samson scolds, "He's a cursed demigod, not some mindless murderer. Behind the body is the soul of one of our own. Vampires like him are humans that've been cursed by some unfortunate means, why else do you think they hide far away? They're just trying to make the best out of their situations, they're innocent. They're _people, _Samuel, with minds just the same. He lives in a mountain because he's scared, men like you would murder him without a second thought because of what he looks like. He's Frankenstein's monster. At least give him enough respect to talk to, we may not even have to murder anybody if you just did that more!"

Samuel feels his veins popping, his hands shake, and he unconsciously reaches for his gun, but Hylla's face flashes in his mind and he exhales, dropping his hands to his side.

"Phew, you are _so _lucky Hylla told me to keep my anger in check! If it wasn't for her I'd be ripping your stupid head off and blasting that vampires brains all over the side of the mountain! Thank Hylla next time you see her, she's the only reason I'm not killing you right now!"

Samson is silent through Samuel's snarl, but he doesn't back down from Samuel's threat. Call him arrogant, but he _is _a god. He's confident he could protect himself from Samuel.

He turns around and heads towards a trail leading up the mountain, calling back to Samuel over his shoulder as he does, "For the record, I pity Hylla. She has to put up with far too much if she has to remind her _husband _not to ruin her life because he's angry. I'm trying to save lives, Samuel, maybe you'll make Hylla happier if you do, too."

Samuel raises a middle finger in response. Samson rolls his eyes and starts back up the trail.

The Son of Eris huffs and follows shortly after. Despite his sociopathy, Samuel is capable of feeling emotions. He's not too good at empathy, it's one of his key aspects, but he can feel pity and respect for others.

Once, what feels like ages ago, Samuel was bitten, and fully transformed into a werewolf. Only by the misfortune and sheer luck of him dying while the Doors of Death were open was he able to cure himself of the curse.

Still, he had to watch himself try and kill the woman he loves and one of the few friends of his whom he might actually care about. He almost lost _everything _he cared about, but Abner did, the poor bastard.

From one Cursed man to another, he's willing to give the mangy asshole a chance.

* * *

"Well… I think this is the place."

"What gave it away? The deer skulls stabbed in stakes in the ground, or the killer cuts carved into _solid stone. _What the fuck are we waiting for, an Indian chief to come running out of the woods telling us about our doom?"

Standing before the Sam's is the entrance to a cave high up on a forgotten trail deep in Mount Rainier. All around them stand deer skulls and other kinds of totems, thankfully all only made of animal bones, but the eerie feeling is there none the less.

"That's offensive, also they're Native American. Whatever, I'm cold as hell. Let's get the venom and be on our way."

Samuel nods, playing with the ring on his finger, "After you. Last time we fought a vampire in a cave you did _so _well."

Samson wisely ignores Samuel's jab and heads into the cave, using a small fire he summons in his palm to lighten up the pitch-black emptiness.

The two travel for several minutes through the winding caves, both seeing very clear signs of old mining equipment. At several points in the cave they see old, dried out beams of wood bracing the cave of the roof and rusted bits of metal that likely was old shovels and pickaxes.

They travel for several hundred feet down into the mountain when the tunnel suddenly emerges into a large, central room clearly carved out by a being with far superior strength than a human.

Samuel examines the scaring on the rocks and sees that the rock was cut vertically _very _deeply by something with immense strength, then physically bashed into dust by something even stronger. Carving something like this by hand would've taken decades if only one person did this but seeing as Abner is in the body of a monster and is several hundred years old, he finds it easy to believe he got this done by himself far quicker.

"_Samuel," _Samson whispers, pointing at a faint, glowing light emerging from a separately carved tunnel towards the back of the chamber. He extinguishes his flame, and the two get low and hide behind a stray boulder as a hunched over figure rushes into the room carrying a golden staff wrapped with two snakes that faintly glows in the darkened room.

It's as clear as day what the creature is. Tall, hunched over with mangy patches of wiry fur. Long, hairless limbs with claws long and sharp like daggers, a bloated belly that looks seconds away from bursting open.

This is him, Abner, likely the last remaining Vrykolakas in the Americas. Clutched in his arms, careful as though he's holding in infant, is the iconic staff of Hermes.

Abner handles the staff most preciously, whispering viciously as he argues about _something _with the immortal snakes coiled around the top of the staff.

The Sam's sneak closer around the boulder to better hear the conversation.

"_No! No! We mustn't fail now, not while we're so close! Powerful, yes, very powerful. We can bring them back, make them whole again! We shall die together, as men, with honor."_

A strange hissing noise, similar to a sigh escapes the maw of the 'male' snake, _"Listen mate, you've got to let it go! They've died already, their souls are likely in Asphodel as we speak."_

"_No!" _Abner shouts, _"It's not enough! They deserve more, only Elysium! Let them die with honor and be judged for it!"_

The 'female' snake sighs sadly and shakes her head, _"Poor lad, gone mental with grief. Just turn us back over to your da', he'll show you pity. Maybe he'll even let Asclepius turn you back into a man."_

Abner shouts and bashes his fist against the stone wall, cracking it and causing the entire chamber to shift. The Sam's ready themselves to bolt, but the shifting stone subsides when Abner uses the staff to fix the damage to the mountain.

Samson's eyes widen in disbelief, the Son of Athena realizing Abner is even more dangerous than they thought now that he knows he can utilize at least some of the power of the staff.

"_I'll not turn back to the bastard! He made me into this! He turned me into a monster for revenge and left me to rot! I'll become a man when __**I **__wish to be, he'll have no part to play!"_

George the snake winces from the outburst, _"Sorry mate, didn't mean to trigger ya'. Okay, what would it take for you to give us back? Hermes is completely __**useless **__without us."_

"_Hrrr, obey my commands and resurrect them all!"_

"_Oh boy, not the puppets again…"_

Abner grabs a leaver bolted into the wall and yanks it down. Something loud clicks, and lights wired high inside of the chamber slowly burn to life, illuminating just how large the central chamber is. The Sam's look around the chamber and see that it's actually carved as something like a small stadium, nearly an exact replica of the one Camp Half Blood held the chariot races in.

What makes it disturbing, is that in many of the seats at least ninety life sized dolls hobbled together from old animal bones and sticks shaped like various monsters occupy them. Some look vaguely human with exaggerated features which Samson guesses to be Revenants. Others, however, are far more bestial, which he guesses to be other Vrykolakas.

Samuel's mind pieces the puzzles together and finally understands everything he needs to know about Abner. Kronos killed the population of human-cursed vampires in revenge for when they refused to serve him during their rising, and Abner lost his mind in grief and stole Hermes staff to resurrect his friends so he can turn them back into humans and let them live out a regular human life.

Unfortunately, the Staff of Hermes doesn't have the power to take souls from the Underworld, so really all he's done is paint a target on his back.

Abner beckons to his 'comrades' in the stands, _"Masters! I promise to right my wrongs! In my weakness I led the crooked one to you, but I shall atone for my sins! I'm so close to unlocking the power of the staff! Soon we'll walk the world as men once more! And then… and then we can have __**peace**__!"_

Samuel sighs and emerges from his cover behind the boulder. Samson tries to get him back down, but Samuel ignores him and approaches Abner slowly with his hands visible in the air.

Instantly Abner spins around and aims the staff at Samuel. The snakes cry out in shock and yell at Samuel to run away, but he ignores them and offers an olive branch to the cursed Son of Hermes.

"_What is this?! Thief! Murderer! It was you who killed my friend! Come to finish us off for good, have you?! I'll not die this day!"_

"Wait just a damn minute! I'm here for the staff only, no need for violence! Your friend attacked me before we could talk him down! Just give me the staff and we'll be gone. It's doing you no good, it won't bring them back!"

"_Grr, liar! Thief, yes, a thief! We are a sinner! Only with the staff can we be redeemed! Fear not, masters, I'll protect you from this demigod trash!"_

Samuel curses and dives away as the snake heads from the staff blast a beam of hot plasma over Samuel's head.

"_Sorry mate!" _George says, _"We can't stop him! He's got too much control over the staff!"_

Samson jumps over the boulder and launches his spear at the Vampire. Abner hisses in pain as it pierces his belly, sickly red blood leaking from the wound. Electricity shocks Abner for several seconds before he manages the strength to rib the spear out and respond with a laser blast from the staff.

The Son of Athena curses and activates his shield spell just in time to get blasted by the laser. His magic holds the laser off for a second, but the sheer strength destroys the barrier and launches him into the wall far away.

Samuel whips out his rifle and starts unleashing a torrent of well-placed bullets all over Abner's body. He hits joints over and over again, hoping to sever them, but Abner regenerates too fast for bullets to be effective.

He curses and switches his rifle out for the sword, hoping the enchanted fire will do more damage. Abner roars and leaps into the air, smashing into the ground as Samuel barely rolls away. Abner swings the staff wildly at Samuel who struggles to parry the blows, the sheer strength and speed force Samuel onto a desperate defensive.

Samson finally reemerges from his hole in the wall and strikes Abner in the back, using the length of his spear tip like a sword to sever the vampire's spinal column and deliver a nerve destroying shock at the same time.

Abner falters slightly, but his body regenerates from the spinal damage in moments and lashes out a fierce donkey kick that sends Samson spiraling away again. Samuel uses the distraction to chop Abner's hand off, the fire on the sword cauterizes most of the stump, but blood still squirts out from the unburned flesh.

The vampire screeches and backhands Samuel across the face with the pole of the staff. Martha apologizes to Samuel just as a jet of fire escapes her maw. Samuel jumps to his feet and leaps away from the blast of fire.

Abner doesn't let up and fires a laser blast from the staff. Samuel drops to the floor as the beam races overhead, the sheer heat tans his face instantly and he's forced to close his eyes and look away lest the heat burn him blind.

Samuel rolls to his feet and readies himself as Abner leaps into the air again, but at his peak height Samson tosses his spear like a javelin and hits him in the back of his skull. Abner loses control of his leap and crashes into the ground, where Samuel jumps on top of him and slices his other hand clean off.

He yanks the spear out of Abner's skull and quickly scoops up the staff, but cries in shock when the godly energy of the staff starts burning his hands.

"Ah fuck! Here, you take it!" Samuel tosses the Caduceus at Samson who catches it on instinct. He plays hot potato with it for a second before he realizes that the staff isn't burning him.

"_You're a deity," _Martha says, _"Normally we'd explode in your hands since you're not __**our **__god, but we'll bend the rules this time."_

Abner growls and pushes himself off the ground. His bleeding stumps slowly pulse and gurgle as a fresh set of hands bursts from the bloody stumps. The vampire his and uses his own claws to sharpen themselves, sparks flying as he cuts them to a razor's edge.

"_Give it back! Give it to me! I must save them! Only I can save them!"_

Samson looks to Samuel who only sighs and shakes his head. Samson closes his eyes, a look of pain crossing his face as he raises the staff and points the snakes at the shaking vampire.

"I'm sorry, man, but you've gotta let them go. I learned that lesson the hard way."

Energy builds up in the end of the staff, and Samson opens his eyes, his expression full of resolve, "Find your peace with them in death."

The energy building up in the staff bursts forth, colliding with Abner and pinning him up against the wall. The fierce, godly energy quickly burns Abner's flesh and bones away, so quickly that the Sam's can't even see Abner's body trying to regenerate.

Small tears leak from the milky white eyes of Abner as he stares down the godly energy of his father's staff. Memories flash before him and he sees a handsome man with sandy blonde hair climbing a mountain to find gold to bring back to his mother. He sees the boy's look of betrayal as a crowd of men shoot him dead in the street, and Abner weeps as he _finally _remembers what he used to be.

"_I'm sorry… masters… I've failed you, again."_

The fire consumes him but stops just short of his head. Samson approaches and leans down to what remains of Abner's body. Samson fishes a vial from his coat pocket and holds it under one of Abner's fangs and squeezes a small lump of flesh on the underside of his jaw.

Yellow liquid quickly fills the vial, and Samson covers the cap and stares down sadly at the head. Samuel comes around to his side and gazes down at it, his eyes empty of any emotion.

"Guess we outa' finish him off, huh?"

"…Yeah," Samuel says after a while. He takes his rifle from his back and aims it at the head. His eyes meet Abner's for a second, and in that moment, he thinks he can see the color blue in his pupil-less eyes.

Samuel pulls the trigger, and the job is complete. Abner's head dissolves into black dust and vanishes into the stone and dirt. The vampire's body was exhausted completely from the godly energy that it just couldn't heal itself any more. The last fatal blow was unregeneratable, meaning Abner finally died for good.

He puts his gun away and marches back up the path leading outside, "C'mon… let's get out of here."

Samson takes one last look at the dust and slowly nods his head, "Yeah… I think I've had enough for today."


	18. Going Home

**A/N: That new TOA book right? Oh man, such harrowing, fun adventures. Lol I haven't read it yet, but I did get informed from my friend that Vrykolakas show up in it. No clue what they look like in canon, so don't get mad since I came up with the description of them in my story before the new book came out. Sorry for the huge break between chapters. I took some time off to relax, but I'm back now, apologies. Anyways enough rambling, we've got a chapter to read!**

* * *

"Samson, this is fucking stupid!"

"It so is not!"

Samuel grabs his hair and tugs dramatically, "Samson, it shoots lasers! It has snakes that shoot lasers _and _fire!"

"_I told you I was sorry, dearie."_

"Shut up, you're not helping! And you," He points at Samson whom holds Hermes Staff, "Why the hell do you still have that thing?! Just give it back to Hermes already!"

Samson sardonically waves his hand across the mimic arena and turns his gaze back to Samuel, "You see him anywhere? Mori's taking too long with the portal and I want to get across the ocean as soon as possible. It's simple, we just use the _staff _to make a portal instead of waiting."

Samuel deadpans at his companion, "…You just want to use it because you think it's cool, right?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that."

He throws his hands dramatically into the air, "Oh! You hear that, god?! He can't do anything!"

"Whatever, man. Listen, it's simple. I use the staff to make us a portal, I'm a mage _and _a deity, so it shouldn't be hard at all."

"_If I may,"_ Martha interrupts before Samuel can start yelling, _"The staff's power is far different than magic. First try you'll probably end up in Hawaii, if you're particularly unlucky you might end up on the moon!"_

George does his weird giggle-hiss, _"That happened to Hermes once. Poor lad. Artemis was so angry, for a second I thought she was going to drop him in Tyhpon's mountain! He was up there for a week too, oh you shoulda' seen the look on his face when he got back! Artemis beat him so bad I thought he might never reform! Took Zeus and Poseidon an hour to wrestle her from the bastard."_

The Sam's stare at the snakes dumfounded. Samson sighs, "Fine, we'll wait for Mori. Maybe my Naiad ran into trouble or something? Who knows? I have faith in her, Ornea's crew is the best, she's got this handled. Let's head back to town, they've probably got a motel or something."

"Hold up," Samuel blurts out, "Don't you have that stupid vanity mirror? Why can't we just use that?"

Samson grimaces, "The mirror works off visual memory. If I've never been there, or I don't have some kind of visual memory of the place, we'd run the chance of complete atomization followed by implosion. I'd give it a fifty-fifty chance of us ended somewhere in a thousand mile radius around the target, or we atomize and implode."

"…Can we fly?" Thunder rumbles angrily overhead, "FINE! We'll wait for Auntie!"

* * *

The Sam's made their journey from Abner's cave and back down the mountain trails. They found the path leading back to the small town, and the two quickly hustled along the path. It took them most of the day to find the cave, and the two would rather cover as much distance as possible with some light still in the sky.

The journey back to the town was treacherous, but not from any monster, mind you. The very mountain itself seemed to come alive, pulsating with mysterious heat and energy once the sun started setting. The two couldn't figure out what was happening, and George and Martha were mysteriously silent with input.

Samson guessed that some sort of spirit of the mountain may have been angered with their murdering of Abner, but the only nature spirit powerful like that was Pan, and he died long ago.

Could it be Hermes, then? Samson shakes his head and focuses on the winding path, his head starting to spin from the noxious heat surrounding them.

It can't be him. Hermes was sorrowful about the state of his son, Samson can't imagine him being displeased with what basically amounted to a mercy killing. This has to be something else, but what in Gaea's green world could it be?

Definitely not her, she's been scattered, never to reform for at the least several thousand years.

Samson shudders and closes off his thought. Right now he needs to focus, with his vision spinning the way it is it would be incredibly easy for one of them to misstep and tumble over a cliff to their death.

"Samuel," Samson gasps, "You holding up okay?"

Samuel vomits on the dirt and barely manages to catch himself before he stumbles and falls into it, "Yeah-hrmf! Never better!"

Faint lights peek out through trees in the distance, and the Sam's cheer internally. Just a few more minutes and they'll be in relatively safe territory.

The closer they get to the town, the lighter the imposing presence of the mountain seems to get. By the time they reach the first building, the presence is gone. Their heads stop spinning, and suddenly everything seems much more colorful than before.

To their surprise, George and Martha suddenly start talking, as though they've been having a conversation the entire trip back. The snakes said the whole trip they've been trying to get their attention, but the two acted like they couldn't hear them at all.

Samson was particularly horrified to learn that fact. To him, they were being enchanted or otherwise influenced by something, which should be impossible for Samson since he's still wearing his jacket, _Juggernaut._

_Juggernaut, _on top of it's ability of indestructibility and complete fire resistance, it also has the power of immunity to curses and hexes. _Juggernaut _only allows helpful influences to pass into the wearer, anything harmful should be repelled.

So what the hell has the power to circumvent that?! Annabeth one time told Samson that has jacket doesn't grant resistances to spirits. She was wearing it when a cursed spirit on the Siren's island possessed her, so _Juggernaut _**does** have weaknesses in that way.

But still, no spirit is capable of influencing a deity, even if Samson is a super weak one when compared to nearly unknown deities like Britomartis or the one dude who was turned into a Mermaid. Could it be Hades, then? He's a Chthonian god, his powers are more aligned with the dead than they are with the overworld.

That doesn't add up, though. Samson is still contracted with Hades, and he'd _know _if he pissed him off! Samson sighs and walks into a motel with Samuel, he'll have to investigate this later after they get the cure. One horrible quest at a time. Samson's learned managing too many mysteries is just a hassle.

Gods, he can go for a good cup of tea right now.

* * *

"Yo… still awake?"

Samuel groan and opens his eyes, the day that just passed was worn him down, yet still he can't fall asleep! He's more than a little surprised since he's fairly emotional right now, granted no one can hardly tell except for Hylla since he does a fantastic job at covering up his gooey squishy feelings.

He sighs and stares up at the dark ceiling of the motel he found with Samson. They were lucky that they managed to snag the last room with two separate beads. Well… not luck, really, Samson used the mist to control the clerk and make her switch their rooms with someone else.

Yeah, it's _kinda _mean since she'll have to deal with the angry people they switched with, but he really doesn't care, hardly.

Some would say that it would be better if the two of them got different rooms considering Samuel's thinly disguised aggression towards his Godfather, but he would call those people idiots.

When they're in the safety of his Mansion, Samuel will _never _sleep in the same room as Samson, but they're not safe. Out in the outside world, danger lurks around every corner.

Maybe a cyclops with a club, or a stray, mangled Werewolf. If you travel in a group, common sense and logic says never stray from your companions. Safety in numbers, more than one demigod increases everyone's chances of survival, and even if Samson is a super weak god, having one _technically _means they're attacked far less than usual.

It's relieving, normally Samuel has to deal with one or two monsters everyday and the fallout that occurs from their battles.

Amazingly, no soft mortals have been killed in the crossfire, but many have been hurt and hospitalized before. It's only a matter of time someone dies, and that death will become another ghost haunted the edges of his mind.

"Samuel? You've been glaring at the ceiling for like, _five _minutes."

Oh fuck, he forgot the idiot was talking to him.

"Shut up! I'm thinking, okay?! Whatever, why the hell did you wake me up? I want to get at least a couple hours of sleep before we get ourselves into more shit!"

The idiot rolls his eyes at Samuel, and the Son of Eris's eye twitches and a strong urge to punch him in the face fills his belly.

"I'm just… _curious _about your input in a matter."

This gets Samuel's attention. He raises a curious eyebrow as Samson continues his train of thought.

"By all accounts, we were in the right when we killed Abner. Even if he wasn't a monster, he was still a danger to innocent people and stealing the Caduceus only increased that threat several fold. But still… something doesn't quite sit right with me. I just… It feels like we did something _bad._"

Ah, he's getting all sappy about that stupid cursed Son of Hermes. Why in the world Samson cares Samuel will never know. Abner's dead, they're alive, he tried to kill them and they returned the favor successfully. Weak emotions like empathy and sympathy will only get you killed, out in their world you need to be committed to survival. That means making sure you don't _try _and be a hero, and you especially don't let emotions get in the way.

But still, despite all morality and logic rushing around in Samuel's brain… he gets what Samson is saying, he really does.

Samuel doesn't _feel _things a lot, but he knows what it's like to become cursed and no longer human. He knows what it's like to lose people close to you.

_Mark Chambers._

Yeah, yeah, he gets it, brain! No need to be cryptic and shit, alright?! Abner reminded Samuel of Mark just a little bit and killing the Vrykolakas felt like he was killing his best friend all over again!

Is he messed up from it? Yes! Surprisingly, yes, he is! Call him an unfeeling monster all you want. Samuel has emotions, and he has the unfortunate flaw of empathy. So yeah, he's actually pretty upset right now, and killing that poor fucking bastard has _really _jacked his ability to sleep at the moment.

"God dude… just go the fuck to sleep."

Samuel rolls over on his side so his back is facing Samson. He doesn't have to use his eyes to _know _Samson is looking at him right now. Those silvery-orbs staring at him, judging him.

Who does the fucker think he is?! The bastard doesn't know hardship, he doesn't know loss. He can take that stupid, all knowing cryptic ass look in his eyes and shove it in his ass! That pity he tries to give him is unwarranted and unwanted.

Samuel is _fine, _and he more he says it the more it becomes real.

* * *

"Finally! Mori, I thought you were better than this!"

Samson ducks as a ceramic plate is flung from the other side of a swirling dark tear in the fabric of reality. To literally anyone who's played a fantasy game or a D and D session, then they'll know it's just a portal with Auntie Mori talking to them from the other side.

But to someone with any sense of personal self-safety, like say Samuel for instance, then they'll immediately say 'fuck this shit, there's no way I'm going inside that thing. It looks like Satan's asshole, and I'll not be going in there thank you very much!'

"Samuel, for Gods' sake, stop being so goddamn dramatic! And Samson, if I get more sass from you I'll send you to the Himalayas instead!"

Samson puts his hands up in defeat, but that stupid smile of his shows Mori's threat is more of a wifely jab.

"Besides, your Naiad only got here just this morning. Apparently, she got attacked by a stray dog, and some passerby's snatched her up to a hospital before she could get back to the water. She had to bust out of the hospital and evade security somewhere in Pennsylvania for a while before she managed to find a river that took her to Boston. She's fine, by the way. Water heals her, and spirits can't get diseases."

Good god, this woman just won't shut up!

"Anyways, before you go take Grapes with you! He misses you guys and he's starting to teeth on the furniture."

"Wait, fucker's doing what?!"

"Hylla said she's fine with it since it gives her a reason to, and I quote: 'Get rid of Samuel's old ugly ass furniture."

"That bitch!"

"_I heard that!"_

"She says she-"

"Yeah-yeah, I heard her! Hey, tell her I said-!"

"No. Anyways take Grapes with you. You're hunting for Moly, so having a nature spirit with you outa help out some. Now chop-chop! You've only got a week and a half left, and Hylla will kill Samuel if he dies on her again! Her words, by the way."

Samuel can see it. But enough about his promised double death, their drunk, baby friend is tagging along for the rest of their journey and Samuel is actually fairly excited.

Tell Samson that and you're dead! Even if he gives Grapes shit a lot, he loves the stupid grain spirit who for some reason is based off of a fruit.

"Just walk through the portal and you'll end up in some town near Mount Cyllene… hopefully. I don't know. Magic's been a little weird as of late, probably something to do with those emperor assholes."

"Wait, what?"

"Anyways bye guys!"

The portal showing a foggy version of Mori fizzles out and is replaced by what Samuel guesses to be a beach? He sees white and blue, so at least they'll be going somewhere warm.

Good, he can do without the miserable Washington weather right now.

Samson curiously pokes the swirling energy of the portal. It harmlessly sizzles off his finger, and the son of Athena half nods his head in some form of understanding. Samuel just watches confused for a moment when Samson finally turns to him.

"Just checking if the portal was gonna cook us alive if we went through. Good news, it won't. Grapes is probably on the other side already, so let's not keep him waiting."

Samuel just rolls his eyes and carefully approaches the swirling vortex of arcane mysteries. And likely misery, too, seeing as how he still thinks it looks like the Devil's hole.

Having enough of Samuel's hesitance, Samson pushes Samuel into the portal and steps in after. Thankfully, Mori's portal is far more convenient than Samson's mirror method. Instead of shortcutting distance by traveling through a parallel dimension, Mori's portal operates on the wormhole theory.

Instant point to point teleportation, no shortcut at all.

Samuel finds himself relieved that this method doesn't make him want to vomit, not that he's aware of the science behind the two forms of teleportation, but he's still far more pissed off than relieved.

The fucker pushed him through! Does he know he almost pissed himself being shoved inside of the Devil's asshole?!

Samson walks through the swirling ring of the portal, and the red vortex closes behind him with a cartoonish 'pop'. He looks around the area, getting a feel for their relative location, and becomes pleased when he sees the slopes of Mount Cyllene looming high off in the distance.

Sand crunches beneath his feet, and he turns and looks off at the water gently sloshing against the sand. He sees the mainland just across the way, he can faintly make out the opposite peninsula and maybe even sees something like a resort far off across the strait.

Despite being half Japanese and raised in America, Samson can't help but feel happy at adventuring to his Mother's homeland. Sure, Greece isn't the world his mother described it as, the last time she spent any proper time here was hundreds of years ago, but it's still nice seeing that some of the things she described to him are so obviously visible.

The water is crisp, and a healthy blue. The hills and peninsulas roll with grass and the odd ascattering of animals. The place just feels, well, _old._ Like history happened right here on this beach. He can imagine the Titans of old walking across the plains, gods and goddesses laughing and driving their chariots across the sky while curious early settlers look on in awe.

He might be over imagining life at the time, but this is where everything great about him originates. The original home of demigods.

"Samuel, can you feel it? This place is so-"

His sentence is cut short by Samuel's fist whacking him across the jaw. Samson stumbles back, crying out indignantly. Samuel stands proud and points an accusing finger at his Godfather.

"You dick! You pushed me into Satan's asshole!"


	19. Angry Birds Don't Like Sick Beats

**Howdy, another chapter here. Sorry for the big delays between chapters, but I'm slowly getting back to this story with more resolve and excitement. Not much more to say, just hope you guys enjoy this chapter. There'll be some more fun action again!**

* * *

Samuel grapples Samson and throws him to the floor. He kneels on his arms and starts thrashing at his face. Samson, for the most part, ignores the abuse since Samuel isn't hitting him hitting him _that _hard, though he finds that Samuel's right swings hit harder than his left.

"Samuel," Wham! "Please stop." Another punch, "You're literally dying as we speak."

"Shut your face, asshole! You pushed me inside Satan's asshole!"

He brings his arm back for another swing, and when he swings his arm instead of his fist smashing Samson's face, it's just a stump with a few wires sparking faintly.

Samuel brings the stump where his hand once was and examines it with confusion. He slowly peeks over his shoulder and glares at Grapes who hovers behind him, smiling smugly with the severed robotic hand he just bit off.

Grapes opens his mouth and the hand plops unceremoniously to the ground. Samuel grumbles and picks up his lost hand, grimacing from the slobber all over it. He wipes it off on Samson's jacket and wedges it to his stump. The hand reconnects itself back together, wires, metal and all without any effort from him at all.

"Damn, that's handy!" He barely holds back a laugh.

"Hephaestus tech, I'm assuming?"

Samuel punches Samson across the cheek with his newly attached hand and stands back to his feet. Samson pushes himself off the ground with a noticeable lack of help from Samuel and feels his quickly healing bruise on his cheek.

"Yup, definitely the forge god. You've got a pretty good swing, too. Too bad it didn't actually hurt."

The Son of Eris simply flips his companion off and turns to Grapes with an angry expression. He puts his hands on his hips and starts scolding the Karpos like a disapproving mother.

Samson finds the image hilarious as he remembers Eris doing the _exact _same thing to Max one or two times before. He quickly sneaks a picture of the two with a fancy device called a 'polaroid' that he got from his half-sister, Annabeth, as a gift not long ago.

He shoves the camera and the developing image into his pockets and makes a mental note to thank Artemis for putting pockets in the jacket that have the storage space of a backpack while only taking up the space of a regular pocket.

"Maybe I should start a scrapbook?" He says to himself knowing that Samuel is fully invested in his scolding session, "Or I could do a collage, too."

"Hey!" Samuel yells, pointing at Samson, "Shut the fuck up! I'm trying to be a good parent!"

"Grapes!" Grapes says snidely. Samson and Samuel gasp horrified and blanch at Grapes' disrespectful words.

"Hey-hey!"

"Watch your fuckin' language!"

"GRAPES!"

"Oh, that's it you little shit! Get over here!"

Samuel advances on Grapes, but before he can grab the sprite Samson snatches him first and hugs him tight to his chest. Samuel's eye twitches in irritation and he holds his hands out, imagining he's strangling Samson.

The Son of Athena cradles Grapes and points an accusing finger at Samuel, "Oh no you don't! You're not laying a finger on my baby boy!"

"HE'S A MONSTER! DON'T HUMANIZE HIM!"

Samuel glares at Samson, and in the bottom of his vision he sees Grapes raising his middle finger at him. Samuel so desperately wants to shoot the little shit in the face with his gun, but he loves the little sprite too much and decides against it.

Samson lets Grapes go and he hovers idly next to him. He looks up at the small mountain off in the distance and turns to Samuel.

"Well, there's where we need to be. The herb Molly should be up there in the cave Hermes was born in. After that we need to travel some number of miles to the site of Mycenae. Thankfully it's on the same island. We should be able to get this done in only a couple of days, we'll have plenty of time left too, just in case."

Samuel looks at the mountain, "Any idea what kind of monsters we'll run into up there?"

Samson shakes his head, "No clue. Honestly, I don't even know if there will be any. Monsters migrate with wherever the 'west' is, and the 'west' is in America. If there is any left in Greece, there's likely to be far fewer than there is back home."

The two look around the old road they landed next to. They wait for several minutes, but not a single car drives past that they can hitchhike on.

"Well," Samuel says, "I guess we have to walk."

* * *

"Grapes!"

"Yeah, you're right… having wings would be great right now."

"Graaaapes!"

"Yeah-yeah, I get it! You have wings, how cool for _you!"_

Mount Cyllene is the Mountain Hermes was born on, and ironically the same mountain his mother, Maia, was born on, too. Samson honestly thinks it's kind of gross, but hey, that's just how the gods be.

The mountain itself isn't exactly a very tall mountain, nowhere near the same size of Abner's mountain, but still a mountain none the less. The 'path' they chose wasn't technically a path, but they followed it until they ended up at an old path heading in the direction of the mountain.

A few nice locals pointed them in the right direction too, but they did give the Sam's weird looks. Likely since Samuel gives off the vibe of a vampire hunter, and Samson still looks like a hippie straight from the nineteen sixties.

Samson can't even guess what Grapes looked like to them through the mist, but they didn't run away screaming or pull out crosses and recite verses from the bible, so he's not really too bothered.

"Ugh, Samson! Handle Grapes, he's being an asshole!"

He rolls his eyes. Samuel and Grapes' relationship is an interesting one. Samuel says he hates Grapes, but Samson can see the gleam in his eye when he plays with Grapes when he thinks Samson isn't looking. He looks like a kid playing with his puppy, It's sort of endearing to Samson. Samuel always comes off as intense and wholly emotionless despite how much he yells, but put him in a room alone with Grapes and his eyes brighten up. He almost seems like a whole other person, maybe a person who hasn't been so damaged by the life his lineage cause him.

Sometimes he wonders what life would've been like had he been born an ignorant mortal. Would he be happy? Would he even still be alive at this point? Despite the intense culture shock that happened when Annabeth showed him everything new about the twenty-first century, he does love this new world.

Is he traumatized and only one freak out away from a complete mental breakdown? Well, yes. But in his defense, literally _all _demigods and gods are like that.

Aphrodite is notorious for such freak outs. Obviously, you can look at any myth about Aphrodite and get the idea, but Samson's been to several Winter Solstice parties when the Olympians still allowed demigods to visit.

He's been a witness to how unbelievably juvenile she is. Crying one minute, strangling Ares in the next second to downing a whole bottle of Vodka less than a minute later.

And that all started because Ares told her he didn't like her makeup, hence the strangling, cry and Vodka.

Anyways, Samson's made his point, _everyone _in the Greek world of Monsters and Gods are on edge and seconds away from losing it.

Honestly, he's surprised there haven't been more people like Luke. Well, maybe there has, but Luke was the lucky one who _actually _managed to do something to the Olympians, but that's mostly because he had the backing of the Titan Lord.

"Yo… Samson."

Samson did hear rumors long ago, like almost over a hundred years ago, that someone did try to rise and destroy the Olympian gods when they were new to America. If he remembers, it was a Native American boy who was promised a free America from one of the Titans.

"Samson!"

Obviously, the boy didn't succeed, and the plot was destroyed before it could really get started. Still, Samson is surprised the only other 'code Luke', as he's heard his Mother call it, happened well over a hundred years ago.

Samuel smacks Samson out of his monologue and points angrily up at the sky surrounding the mountain. Samson looks up and sees hundreds of strange birds flying all over the mountain only a few hundred meters ahead of them.

They squawk and shriek like no bird they've ever heard before. Their flight is stiff and awkward, yet they still maintain a high altitude and consistent flight path over the mountain.

The two quickly jump off the path and hide under a low hanging tree. Samuel takes a pair of binoculars out of his jacket and examines the birds as best he can from the distance. He shakes his head and hands them over to Samson, he can see the birds just fine, but he doesn't know what creature they are exactly. Begrudgingly, he thinks that Samson is more likely to know what they are then he is.

Samson spots the odd birds through the binoculars and notes their features. Long, straight beaks similar to a stork made of polished bonze, shiny metal feathers like stainless steel, and a body style similar to a ibis and of the same size.

"Yup," Samson says, popping the 'p', "Stymphalian Birds, the old-world kind."

"Aren't they supposed to look like pigeons?" Samuel asks, "I've never seen one that big or wicked looking before. They must be a different breed or something."

"Right on the money. These guys are the 'classic' breed, whereas the ones back home bred with local bird populations and became a new breed. Incidentally, I wrote my dissertation on them. I should have a copy-"

"SHUT UP!"

"Fine-fine! We've got a problem, how the hell are we supposed to get through all of them? There's well over a hundred of them, and there's no way we can fight our way through. Maybe a sound device? I believe that's how Heracles dealt with them in the story."

Samuel sticks his tongue out like he just tasted something terrible, "Ugh, don't even talk about that asshole! But yes, he used like a rattle or something to startle them in the story, but he actually killed them with a bow. But maybe… hm, I've got an idea! We're gonna need a bunch of parts! Think there's a scrapyard or something like that nearby?"

Samson shrugs, unsure, "Don't ask me. This is the first time I've ever been here."

* * *

Samuel and Samson stare at the… device Samuel hobbled together from parts of other, outdated devices he found in old shops and junkheaps. Somehow, Samuel managed to buy everything without even converting his money to the Euro.

He did sign a few autographs for someone named Andrew Garfield. Apparently, he's pretty popular in Greece. Anyways, Samson's distracted himself enough from the horrible abomination Samuel made.

It looks like an old, hand-crank air raid siren was combined with a megaphone and a bunch of other wires and a DJ's mixing table. Leo would be proud of the… _ingenuity _that Samuel put into his craft, but he'd also be horrified by the actual engineering of it.

Wires spark _horribly _even if you barely touch the crank, it's mostly held together with duct tape and zip ties, and you _need _two people to operate it. One person to hold it up and together, and the other person has to spin the crank and adjust the mixer dials and digits.

It's pretty much a shit show, but his Godson is proud of it, and Samson _supposes _he should try and be nice when Samuel seems proud of something.

Speaking of which, Samuel is _beaming _with pride, and even Grapes feels off put from the unnatural smile of his.

Thankfully, Samson had the sense to swipe a set of soundproof headphones for him and Grapes, as he can imagine the volume of the… _thing _of Samuel's is going to be loud and very annoying.

"Grapes, put your headphones on. I think he's going to turn it on."

Grapes holds the cups of the headphones snug against his ear and gives Samson a thumbs up. Samson puts his pair on and nods at Samuel.

Samuel rolls his eyes and adjust his grip with Samson, so the main speaker is facing the horde of birds flying above the mountain.

The three of them carried the device close to the mountain, close enough that the Stymphalian birds _definitely _noticed them, but chose not to attack for some reason. Samson can only guess why they didn't attack, but he chose to ignore the odd behavior and let Samuel handle the situation.

"Get ready, assholes! I'm about to fire it up!"

Samuel roars a hearty laugh and starts frantically spinning the crank. The noise that erupts from the speaker is intense, yet none too horrible as the megaphone funnel focuses the sound away from Samuel's ears.

Still, despite the precaution he took to save himself from hearing damage, the siren is freaking _loud. _Samuel uses his free hand to adjust the dials on the mixer, and slowly the sound becomes more and more high pitched until he can no longer hear the sound except for a light ringing.

Grapes and Samson look at Samuel expectantly, and the Son of Eris beams them a stupid smile, oblivious to the blood dripping from his ears.

Yeah, they're happy they chose to wear headphones.

The horde of Stymphalian birds flying around the mountain slowly begin falling from the sky, one by one until the entire horde is scattered around the mountainside twitching and foaming in their unconsciousness. Others are just straight up dead, the super high-pitched sound being so intense it caused massive brain hemorrhaging and brain death, soon followed by actual death not long after.

Samson winces as he steps over the piles of dust and dying birds with Samuel who insists on keeping the device incase the not dead ones wake up later.

Stymphalian birds are the pet birds of Artemis, and even if she regularly hunts them because of how violent they tend to become she's still possessive and defensive of her 'property'. He's interacted with her personally many times, and even if she's somehow one of the more honorable Olympians, she's bound to hold a grudge against them for essentially annihilating an entire flock of her pets.

"OKAY GUYS," Samuel screams unaware of how severe his hearing damage is, "LET'S GET UP THAT MOUNTAIN! A LOCAL TOLD ME THE CAVE HERMES WAS BORN IN IS AROUND ON THE BACKSIDE! HE SAID WE CAN'T MISS IT!"

Samson and Grapes look at one another. They didn't hear a single word he just said. Both are surprised by how well their headphones work. They turn to Samuel and give him a neutral thumbs up.

* * *

"HEY GUYS! I THINK I SEE THE CAVE!"

Samson rolls his eyes, and Grapes groans in annoyance. They took their headphones off so they can actually talk to one another, and then immediately regretted it as Samuel continues _screaming _everything he says.

But yes, Samson and Grapes do see the cave Samuel sees, but Samson feels off put by it. He can feel an energy radiating from the cave. He doesn't know how to describe it, only that the energy somehow feels familiar, yet different from one of the forms of energy he felt from Athena when she blasted him with her true form.

He's surprised to suddenly feel something like that again without being blinded by divinity. This is so sudden and unexpected that he feels a rush of anxiety. What in the world is going on?! Is this a side effect of godhood?! Is he going insane?!

A woman donned in old gardening clothes carrying some old gardening tools suddenly appears from the darkness of the cave. Her hair is a golden blonde braided in a simple bun, and her gait is loose and perky.

The trio find themselves surprised by the woman's abrupt appearance and cheerful attitude for someone who can appear from the darkness of shadows in front of people who can see perfectly in the dark.

She stands over a small bush of white flowers and whistles an unfamiliar tune while she pours water on the plant from her pail.

"HEY, LADY!" Samuel yells, causing the woman to shriek and accidently throw her watering pail down the opposite mountainside path. She spins around and faces the trio wide-eyed in fear, and Samson curses and elbows Samuel, making a smiling gesture with his fingers.

Samuel beams the woman a smile, Grapes following suit, but to the woman, all she sees is the catlike smile of Grapes with rows of monster-like teeth, and Samuel's smile looking closer to a serial killer hunting his prey than a young man trying not to scare a poor lady.

The mystery woman nopes out of there only a second later. She runs into the darkness of the cave and vanishes into the shadows. Samuel groans and yells out at the sky.

"GREAT! SHE CAN SHADOW TRAVEL!" Samson rubs his temple and fishes _Ram _from his pocket and shoves the disguised helmet into Samuel's hands. The innate healing magic starts healing Samuel's ear immediately, and he sighs in relief as the painful ringing in his head slowly stops.

Samson squints at the dark entrance of the unassuming cave and takes _Oculus _from interior pocket. He puts on the reality bending glasses and raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well, would you look at that. She didn't shadow travel, she's just using an illusion to hide the proper entrance from us."

"What are you on about?" Samuel says, Grapes nods in agreement, the sprite curious about Samson's statement.

Samson points at the unassuming entrance to the cave, which to him looks like a carved, ancient Greek style temple entrance covered with grapes and other, impossibly beautiful plants that can only become so beautiful if a god or a nymph was caring for them.

"You can't see it, but to me I see a proper entrance fit for the birthplace of an Olympian. One of the key features of these glasses is their ability to see _truth_ and enforce reality on something that otherwise bends it. Call these things the ultimate illusion breaker. Give it a second, and you'll see what I mean."

Just as Samson predicted, the reality-bending illusion surrounding the entrance starts literally cracking. White lights crack in the middle of the air, like reality space is being broken on front of their very eyes.

The light glow brightly for a half second before bursting completely. Samuel and Grapes looks away from the blinding light, and when they turn back, they see the grand entrance Samson saw before they did.

The Son of Athena pockets his glasses and turns to his comrades with a smug smile on his face. He mockingly opens an invisible door in the air and guides them towards the otherworldly entrance.

"After you, milords."

Samuel and Grapes roll their eyes and walk ahead of Samson into the consuming, dark entrance of the _true _cave of Hermes' birth.

They're not sure who the woman is, but as they all know, there are _no _coincidences in their world. The mystery woman is obviously key to their success in the mission, and if they want to get the magic herb to save Samuel's mind, then they'll need to face her.

It comes as no surprise to any of them that the woman is likely divine. No common sorceress could access the illusion like she did. She may have run away from them the first time, but Samuel doesn't count on it the next.

After all, a cornered animal is always the one that fights the hardest.


	20. Homewreckers

**A/N: Hello, everybody! Still haven't read the newest TOA, my B on that. Yeah… I'm pretty lazy. Or money conscious? Nah, I spend too much. Anyways, I'm back with another chapter! I'm slowly getting ack in my rhythm for uploading chapters, this is going to be a fairly long story and I don't want to spend a year trying to finish it. Enough about that, though, we've got a chapter to finish! I'm sure you guys are fed up with this damn trial, so I'm going to finish it this one and get onto the next soon after. You guys'll like the next trial, PJO's most loved goddess comes next!**

* * *

The cave of Hermes' birth, to the surprise of the three almost assuredly unwelcome visitors, was actually incredibly homely. Nice, bright and warm torches in ornate scones light the winding passages seemingly extending impossibly long through the mountain, an energy like a faint, pleasant spark radiates through the air of the mountain.

The energy of the mountain is different from that of Abner's mountain. His mountain felt oppressive, and when they tried to leave Samson swore it was trying to kill them, and almost succeeded to if it weren't for the surprising luck they had not unknowingly walking off the side of the mountain in a daze.

No, the energy of this mountain is completely and purely _divine. _It's warm and pleasant, like the embrace of a mother.

Samson supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Maia, the Titaness mother of Hermes, is a Pleiades, a Daughter of Atlas, and like her father she's associated with mountains. He just finds himself relieved that, even though she went in hiding millennia ago, her mountain is still joyous and welcoming.

They're going to need that in the coming confrontation. Whomever the mystery woman is, she has to have _some _form of divinity if she was able to enter the true entrance of the cave. It took Samson's _Oculus _to gain entry, and the glasses have the strength of a lesser divine weapon!

Samuel puts a hand out, stopping Samson and Grapes behind him. The Son of Eris gets low and peaks around a corner. Inside he spots a large chamber decorated with modern furniture and appliances. He sees a large, flat screen television seemingly made of glass and celestial bronze. There's a modern kitchen with all the accommodating appliances off to the side with a nice, hand carved cabinet right by them.

There's a set up for a dining room, table of course is hand carved, and a living room with a sofa in front of the television. All in all. Samuel likes the place. It's the ultimate man cave, live in ready too!

Samuel inches forward and looks around the corner into the part of the room he couldn't see. There, off in the corner, is the blonde woman they saw. She's cursing a surprising amount and is fumbling angrily with an old dial-up phone.

"Damn," She spins the rotary dial angrily, missing her desired number and having to start all over again, "DAMMIT! Stupid outdated piece of- AHA! Please-please-please answer!"

The mystery woman holds the phone to her ear and quietly begs whomever she's calling to answer. Samson looks down to his pocket as he feels something buzzing in it. He pulls out the Caduceus, which turned into a cellphone at George and Martha's request, and he looks at the caller ID.

"…Mom?" Samson reads. He opens the phone and holds it to his ear, "Um… hello?"

The mystery woman pulls her phone from her ear and looks at it in confusion. She quickly puts it back and softly speaks into it.

"Wait… Hermes, baby, is that you?"

Samuel looks at Samson who looks at his phone, "I-No, this is Samson. I'm just, uh, borrowing his phone for a second… How are you?"

"Oh, well, not too good, I suppose. There's a couple of strange men outside my house. Gave me a nasty fright, too! I think they're trying to break in, and I'm trying to get a hold of my son so he can come home and deal with them. Is he there? Can you tell him to get on the phone?"

Samson scrunches his face, "Yeah… about that… we, uh, don't know where he is. We can't find him."

Samuel slaps the phone out of Samson's hand and exits around the corner. He holds his hands up in the air as the woman spins around with a horrified expression.

"Okay, lady, now just listen. We mean you _no harm._"

* * *

Maia, being the paranoid Titaness that she is, only heard the mysterious boy say 'we mean you harm', so, on instinct, she threw the phone at him with all her strength. Being a daughter of Atlas, and the eldest of the Pleiades too, she can throw pretty damn hard.

The phone connects with the boy's gut with the speed of a cannonball and the strength of one too. The breath is blown from him, and his body is _launched _back down the hallway.

She hears faint chattering for a second, followed by another boy rounding the corners with his hand up in defeat. Quickly she races over to her kitchen and grabs a heavy, cast iron pan and holds the weapon in a tight grip.

She can see the boy's mouth moving, but she hears no words. She's focused on his energy, now that he's revealed himself she can distinctively see his silvery divinity surrounding him like aura.

How did she miss it before?! All gods can feel another god's energy when they get close like this, and he's in the middle of her domain! Gods, she _really _needs to start paying attention…. Wait, when did he get so close?!

Maia shrieks and stomps her foot on the stone ground. Instantly a stone pillar shoots up from the ground and smashes the dark-haired god in the gut and launches him into the ceiling. He crashes into the rocks and smashes down onto the ground a good distance away from her.

He lays there unmoving, and for a second Maia worries she's killed him. She shakes her head and carefully approaches the body. This is her home! She'll defend it with everything she has! This is likely some plot by that jealous bitch, Hera, to cause her trouble!

She didn't even do anything to her, Zeus is the one who violated her in the first place, that bastard! At least her son isn't such a raging douchebag, thank gods! But ever since then Hera's been harassing her! Nasty voicemails early in the morning, flaming bags of dog shit on her porch, occasionally a spear just _happens _to almost stab her randomly when she's outside.

Sure, Hera says 'Oh, dearie, that's not me! Hermes is a prankster, it's probably him!' but she knows better!

Her precious baby would _never_… okay, he would, but not to his mother!

_Hera _must've sent these men to try and take her out, but she's no sniveling Nymph! She's a daughter of Atlas! A Titaness in her own right! She'll win this fight!

* * *

Samuel groans as he regains consciousness. Damn, hit gut hurts like hell! He coughs a few times and weakly pushes himself back to his feet. He sees the phone the lady threw by his feet and he kicks the projectile away.

He stretches and cracks his back and limps his way back to the room. He enters the chamber and leans against the entryway. Inside, he sees the mystery woman chasing after Samson and Grapes with a heavy looking pan. The Son of Athena calls out to the woman, telling her to stop, but it's clear the woman is seeing red.

She hits Samson over and over with her pan, denting it severely, and Samuel finds himself slightly impressed by how well Samson's taking it.

Grapes flaps around in a flurry, the sprite is too afraid of the madwoman to try and fight back. Samuel finds the whole scene hilarious, and as much as he wants to savor the image his life _is _endangered at the moment.

He waits for a moment for Samson to run near him, and at the last moment he sticks his foot out and trips the lady as she runs past. She immediately falls over his foot and smacks her face on the ground. She pries her face from the rocks and blinks in confusion, but before she can regain her senses Samuel takes her dented pan and quickly smacks her in the back of the head, sending her into unconsciousness.

Samson comes to a stop by her unconscious body and gazes down at it. Grapes hovers over his shoulder and peaks over it, making sure the scary woman isn't going to suddenly jump up and smash his face in.

The trio waits a second, but the crazy woman is out cold.

Samuel claps his hands, "Well… let's go find some ropes!"

* * *

Maia blinks her dreary eyes as she regains her consciousness. She feels the bonds tying her down and she struggles to get free, but the knots and ropes are strong, she can't free herself.

Samson and Samuel watch carefully as the Titaness slumps in her chair. Samuel winces and feels his aching gut. He wants to put a bullet in this lady's head, but he's not actually sure if she would die from it, and this is Hermes' mom and he'd assuredly kill Samuel if he shot his mom.

The trio wait for Maia to relax before they try an interrogation. That word is a bit harsher then Samson would like, all they really need is for her to calm down and understand they're not going to harm her so she can show them where they can find the herb Samuel needs.

She sighs and glares at the boys standing over her. Her yellow eyes are boring and full of hateful emotion. Samuel adjusts his color as her gaze lands on him. He's not often intimidated by deities, but a mother Titaness is one of the few beings he'd rather not mess with.

Being the most cautious of the trio, Samson was elected to be the one to try and parlay with the angry deity. He clears his throat, getting Maia's attention, and the Titaness glares at him as he starts his reasoning.

"Okay, so this may sound strange. But we are _not _here to hurt you."

Maia throws her head back and laughs, "Not hurt me huh? Tell that to the boy who hit me in the head with a frying pan!"

"Hey!" Samuel interjects, "I only did that because you were running around beating people with phones! What if you hit Grapes?! He could've died!"

She glances at the sprite, "Why… do you care? He's a Karpoi, they're killers. Literally monsters."

Samson motions Samuel to step back and he puts himself between the Son of Eris and the Titaness. Grapes flies next to Samuel and watches carefully from behind his coat.

"Look, this is all one big misunderstanding! My friend here is sick with a disease and part of the cure of a handful of Moly. We haven't run into Hermes yet so we couldn't ask him for any, and the only other place you can get Moly is here on the island. We accidentally scared you up top, and well we were pretty suspicious since you were in and out of that mysterious illusion at the entrance."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M CONCERNED ABOUT!" She yells, "You shouldn't have even been able to get close! There were _hundreds _of my Stymphalian birds protecting me! The only way you could've gotten close is if you had help, and the only god with an interest in me is Hera! That bitch is out to get me, and you're just her lackeys!"

Samson sighs and puts a hand over his heart, "I swear on the Styx that we're only here for the herb Moly and to retrieve the Kibisis the hero Perseus owned millennia ago. We mean you no ill will, this whole thing was an accident!"

Maia watches Samson careful, giving herself a moment to see if Samson explodes or is blown up horribly by Styx, but nothing happens. She sighs in relief and twists her hands and breaks the ropes holding her down with a small grunt of effort.

She rubs her chaffed wrists and stares neutrally at a bewildered Samson, "Fine… fine! Maybe I was a bit too hasty in assuming you were out to get me. I'm just used to being paranoid is all. I'm willing to help you, but if I do I want you to promise to help me out with something!"

Samson shifts uncomfortably, "Well… sure, we'll help you, we just have to do it quickly! My associate is sick and will be dead in a week and a half. We _need _the Kibisis and Moly to heal him, Nimuë said it's the only available cure for his super rabies."

Maia tilts her head to the side and looks at the Sam's with a curious expression, "You've met Nimuë? You must have good friends, she'll only show herself to Nymphs and the King of the Gods. But no, don't worry about a timescale. I want you to promise that you'll make Hermes come and visit me! It's been centuries, and the boy only mails me a postcard for my birthday!"

A sly smile works its way on Samson's face. He reaches into his pocket and takes out the cellphone form of Hermes' Caduceus. It turns into the proper staff version, and he hands it over to Maia.

"I think this should work just fine," He says as a smug grin forms on Maia's face, "He'll definitely come and visit you when he finds out you have his staff."

Maia looks at the staff with an amused gleam in her eyes and turns to Samson with a grateful smile, "I accept. In return I'll give you a bushel of Moly _and _transport to the right section of the Labyrinth you'll find the Kibisis. You won't find it in Perseus's grave any longer. It was pillaged long ago, and the thief tried to flee through the Labyrinth but got lost instead. I won't guarantee your safety, but the Labyrinth often takes you to where you _need _to be, not necessarily where you want."

She snaps her fingers and a small group of white flowers tied neatly together with a string of twine appears in Samuel's hands. She snaps her fingers again, and the ground beneath Samson and Samuel opens up and drops them into a large, empty abyss.

The two of them cry out in shock as they suddenly begin a freefall, their screams echoing distantly as they vanish into the darkness.

Grapes looks at the holes in shock and quickly zooms down into the hole after his friends. Maia sighs happily and twirls the staff around in her hands.

"Hello George. Hello Martha. Can you send a letter for me? I think my son would like to know where his staff is."

* * *

Despite falling for what felt like kilometers, when the Sam's landed the impact was no harder than falling out of your bed in the morning. They groan and push themselves back to their feet and look up at the massive, gapping hole overhead of them. Grapes quickly zooms out of the darkness of the hole, and just as he flies through the split in the earth suddenly closes shut with a shaking slam, leaving only a faint crack as evidence of a once gapping fissure.

Samson looks around at their surroundings and sighs as he sees the all too infamous collapsing stone walls of the Labyrinth. Thanks to their natural properties as a deity and Son of Eris, both can see in the dark just fine without too great of a need for light.

They're in the center of a long tunnel that leads for hundreds of meters on each side. Despite being deep underground and unlit, the Labyrinth seems to radiate a natural light that keeps things gloomy, but not completely pitch black.

Once again Samson can feel the presence of _something _in the very land around them. Grapes whimpers and clutches itself to the back of Samson's head. His eyes dart from dark corner to dark corner, scanning for whatever danger is surely lurking nearby.

Samuel feels his instincts flaring up in danger, and he slowly removes his rifle from its holster and readies for coming danger. He angles his back to Samson's and looks down the opposite hallway of him. He stands back to back with Samson and aims the barrel of his gun downrange.

"Samson… can you feel it?"

"Yeah, there's something out there. We need to move. _Now_. But…"

Samuel shifts, "Yeah… which way…"

Something loud echoes throughout the winding halls of the Labyrinth. It sounds like the shifting earth during and earthquake, only not muffled by hundreds of feet of dirt and stone. The source sounds _right there._

Samson takes his condensed spear from his pocket and expands it to its full length. Electricity faintly hums along the length of the spear tip, the soft sound seeming almost deafening compared to the dead silence surrounding them.

Another slam echoes throughout the entirety of the Labyrinth, this time noticeably closer and with far more passion than the last. Samuel closes his eyes and tunes his senses to the sound of the Labyrinth. He listens to the sound's echo and notes how it travels through the passages and hallways, he feels the vibrations traveling around him and cross-references it to the time and distance he measured listening to the sound.

He adds everything up and deduces that the sounds is coming from… Samuel quickly spins around and fires his gun over Samson's shoulder into the darkness down his hallway.

A second passes and they hear something _roaring _in anger far down in the darkness.

"Good shot!" Samson yells as he rubs his ringing ears, "Now we run!"

Samson, Samuel and Grapes head off down the opposite hallway of the mysterious beast chasing them. The creature must have some preternatural sense of the group as the moment the start running, they feel the ground shaking furiously as something charges them from the far end of the hallway.

Samuel points his gun behind himself and starts firing blind potshots at whatever is behind them. He can't tell if he's done any damage, but each shot seems to make the snorting roar of their pursuer louder and angrier.

Samson reaches a T junction and splits right. He grabs Samuel by the collar and yanks him into the new hallway just as a blurry shape races into and through the dead end in the split hallway. Grapes hisses like a cat and claws at the hole in the wall.

Samuel quickly zips around Samson and starts firing into the hole. His eyes widen as he sees a wall of muscle rising in the newly opened hallway. Each shot against the muscled back bounces off the impossible strong flesh, leaving only a faint mark behind.

Slowly the head of the beast turns and glares at Samuel with an angry, red shine. Samuel holsters his gun and immediately takes off down the hallway, Samson and Grapes following suit.

"Okay," Samuel says through heavy breaths, "It's the Minotaur. He's big and _very _angry!"

The hole in the wall explodes in a cloud of dust as the Minotaur breaks back into the passage and the monster lets loose an ear-splitting roar that carries for miles into the Labyrinth.

"Shit dude! How the fuck are we supposed to find some stupid bag with the fucking _Minotaur _on our backs!"

Just as Samuel finishes his exclamation he trips over a pile of bones and slides on his face along the floor for a few minutes. Samson stops and goes to help Samuel up, but he glances at the pile of bones Samuel tripped over and sees something faintly glowing gold under the pile.

He tosses the bones to the side and slowly holds open the glowing article.

Samuel pries his face from the stone and looks at Samson holding a simple golden glowing bag. The bag is something closer to a small sack than a proper bag. It's a pouch-sized sack with a simple string threaded through the opening that can be pulled to seal it shut.

Samson smiles and shows the bag to Samuel, "Well, aren't we lucky? Samuel, I present to you the Kibisis, Hermes' personal bag that can hold any-sized item to an unlimited amount. All we've gotta do now is find a calm body of water and we can get Nimuë to make you a cure!"

The floor starts shaking behind them, and Samuel quickly jumps back to his feet and continues sprinting with his companions down the hallway.

"Good job or whatever! Now we need a way out of here!"

The trio zips around a bend in the hallway and sees a faint light some distance down the next passage.

"There!" Samuel yells, pointing at the light, "That has to lead outside!"

"We don't know where we'll end up! Are you sure?!"

The ground starts shaking from the raging Minotaur quickly closing distance behind them.

"We've got no choice! Anywhere is better than being in here! Samson, we need something to slow him down! We can't reach the exit before he'll catch us!"

Samson yanks a red flower from his jacket and tosses it behind him, "Get ready to jump! I think the tunnel is going to-!"

Before Samson can finish speaking the flower detonates, and due to the enclosed space of the tunnel the explosion shatters the wall and triggers a small seismic event. Quickly the tunnel starts collapsing over their heads, stones the size of a man's head collapsing simultaneously and far too close for Samuel's comfort.

The Minotaur roars in frustration as the collapsing cave slows its charge to a halt as it has to smash through tons of collapsed rock.

Quickly the faint light becomes blinding, and just before the tunnel collapses on their heads, Samson, Samuel and Grapes leap through the exit and land on soft grass. A cloud of dust and debris race over their heads as the tunnel fully collapses behind them.

Samson cough as the dust settles down, and he stands to his feet and examines their surroundings. As far as he can tell, they've landed in a heavily wooded forest, as to where he doesn't know. The kinds of trees around them are so common that there's no real way to find a reference just by looking at them.

He turns his eyes down from the tree line and jumps in shock as a woman suddenly appears in his vision. He trips on Samuel behind him and falls down onto his butt. His shock fades quickly, but his fear isn't fully replaced.

Amused silver eyes stare down at the entangled forms below her, and for a second she lets a faint smile touch her lips before quickly pushing it away and regaining her stoic persona.

Artemis crosses her arms and lazily stares down at the _mostly_ useless males beneath her, "Congratulation, _boys, _you've been accepted as temporary companions of my hunt. Gather your wits, we leave in ten minutes."

Samuel groans and shoves his face into the cold grass, "Great. Now I don't have to worry about the disease killing me!"


	21. Tonight, The Sams Join the Hunt

**A/N: Sorry for the big arse delay in chapters, I was away on vacation for my mother's wedding. It was a lovely time, btw. Anyways I'm back again, and now we're on the godly trial I've been looking forward to. It's everyone's favorite Goddess of the Wild time. **

* * *

Samuel dusts off his favorite coat, a small pile of dust and rubble gathering at his feet. He rolls his shoulders, smoothing out his aching joints and glancing around the forest the Labyrinth deposited them in.

The trees stand tall, reaching high into the sky, and their leaves are a nice, lime green. He guesses they're somewhere further to the south as Northern America is feeling the effects of Approaching winter. He glances over to the side and peeks at the Goddess of the Wilds.

She's standing off to the side, noticeably away from Samuel and his lesser's, looking up at the sky with her back turned to them. As much respect as Samuel has for the few Hunters he's met with, their actual Lady is one he'd want to avoid as much as possible.

It's no surprise that Artemis has a rather nasty reputation about her. Her and her Hunters, actually. Wherever they go, blood flows too, and it's not always monster blood.

Artemis, for whatever reason, has drafted them as temporary honorary Hunters. He guesses it has to do with the whole 'no contact' thing the gods have got going on right now. She can't access her actual Hunters for aid, so more likely than not she's just using them as grunts for now.

At least she's made herself look like she's twenty. Samuel isn't sure he'd be able to take orders from a goddess if she was prancing around in the body of an actual child.

Samson comes to Samuel's side and glances at Artemis with Samuel, "So…. Should you go over there and tell her we still need a cure?"

"Yeah," Samuel says after a second, "How about you go do that?"

He gives Samuel a look of indignation, "The hell?! This is your problem, you can do it yourself! I'll stand by your side, though, maybe hold your hand if you're too chicken to ask her?"

"Ask me what?"

Both Sam's jump back with a shout. Artemis crosses her arms and stares at them with a disinterested frown.

How did she get there so fast?! She was clear eighty feet away and showed up behind them without either of them noticing!

Samuel makes a mental note of that; Artemis is _crazy _fast and deadly silent. Better safe than sorry, and if things ever get bad enough she attacks him knowing how she moves will be helpful.

Samson winces and tugs on his collar. He gestures to Artemis and looks at his Godson with an apologetic expression, "Well, here she is?"

"Yes, -" Artemis says, her voice clearly showing she's not in the mood for antics, "-here I am. Now tell me what you wish, _quickly_."

The son of Eris feels a small bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face. He doesn't often feel intimidated by others, especially deities, but he's well aware of the reputation the Huntress has. One wrong word from a man can get them turned into an animal, one bad word from a _demigod _man can get them murdered in a horrible fashion.

That mean he has to be _very-very caref- _"I'm dying."

Goddammit, brain!

Artemis raises an eyebrow in bemusement. She eyes the spawn of Eris carefully, as though he's a wild raccoon that was cornered by animal control. Samuel gives Artemis an indignant glare when he spots her queer look, and the goddess responds with her own disapproving one.

Samson steps between the two of them and speaks for Samuel, hoping his relatively close relationship with Artemis will keep his companion out of trouble.

"My Lady, what we mean is that my companion here is sick with a disease. Super Rabies, to be precise. We need to find a still body of water so we can summon Nimué and have her create a cure. We've earned a bushel of Moly from Maia, and reclaimed the Kibisis from the Labyrinth, now all that's left is her cure."

He gives Artemis a neutral stare, but the goddess can see right through his charade. She's always found men to be easy to understand, and Samson isn't too different. Granted, he's better than most as he remembers his time from a previous life when he was one of her first Lieutenants, so she gives him much more lenience than she does any other man.

_Samuel _on the other hand, he's in a different league. An arrogant, malicious playboy, Artemis finds she'd rather not give him the same respect she gives her nephew. He has proven himself a commendable warrior and leader, except for that whole time he was a King of those insufferable Gargarean douchebags. Granted she's not openly hostile to him as he hasn't done anything to piss her off yet, but she knows it's only a matter of time.

Most men, sooner or later, do, and then she gets to have fun transforming them into a deer or a girl or something. Whatever she's feeling like at the moment, really.

Of course, she's aware that the spawn of that devil, Eris, is dying of that ridiculously named disease. She's a competent goddess, thank you very much! It's easier than breathing for her at this point. Also, she did learn a thing or two about medicine and diseases from her brother, Apollo, as he's well known for his rule over diseases.

And sunlight, and oracles, music too, and like twelve other things. Sometimes even she's confused by the logic behind her family's domains of rule.

Despite what many say about her; saying she's a brutal witch with no remorse or care for life in her heart at all, and for the most part they're right. Reputation is everything to a deity, and her being feared has made her immortal life far easier than her peers have been.

So no, she's not going to deny the boy a cure out of some cruelness or desire to cause unnecessary harm.

She's just messing with them.

Watching men squirm under her careful gaze is a favorite pastime. Something she finds incredible funny even at her age of over four millennia. They'll get their cure, Artemis has been looking for a reason to meet with Nimué for a while now, anyways, she just needs to make sure the trio of boys knows a few things about being her hunters…

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT GIVING ME MY GUN BACK?!"

Artemis ignores Samuel insistent shout and spins the rifle around in her hands. She scowls at the weapon and uses her divine powers to turn it into a necklace that she hangs around her neck.

Samuel heaves and huffs as he stomps around, raving at Artemis and hurling curse after curse. Samson sits on a nearby stump and looks blankly out into the trees, his mind lost in thought as he tries to find someway to safely break the news to Hylla that Samuel was killed by Artemis.

He turns his gaze to Artemis and meets her eyes, pleading with her to not murder his godson. Artemis's eyes reply 'maybe'.

"Honestly," Artemis says in a bored tone, "I don't know why you're acting like such a whelp. I don't allow modern weaponry in my Hunt, you can still use anything else so long as it's not mechanical. Consider yourself lucky I'm letting you run around in that abyssal coat, too. My Hunt has very strict rules, uniforms among them. I'll give the gun back upon completion of my task, in the meantime you'll use whatever else you have available."

Samuel screams up into the high heavens and stomps away to brood away from the two deities. Samson looks at Grapes and motions him to follow Samuel. Grapes nods and flies away to try and comfort the brooding demigod. Artemis notes how attached the Karpos is to the two men, finding it odd for a grain spirit to be so attached to two beings wholly unrelated to Demeter or nature at all!

Samson sighs and turns to Artemis with a tired expression, "…I know he can get on your nerves, but please don't kill him. I can't even imagine what his wife would do to me if I came back with a rabbit… or a corpse."

"I can be patient when I choose to be. I'll need all the help I can get with my task, so he can consider himself lucky. I'll be much more lenient then I'd usually be."

He sighs deeply in relief, "Excellent… good, great! Alright, he's an adult, he can get over this I'm sure!"

Samuel screams and uses his robotic hand to punch a hole in a solid oak tree. Artemis simply raises a single challenging eyebrow. Samson weakly smiles and quickly changes the subject.

"What is your task, if I may ask? It must be something big if you're willing to take us on as Hunters, even if just by title alone."

Artemis crosses her arms and blows a loose strand of hair from her vision, "You're right… it is something big. Something, or someone is sabotaging my presence in this world. Without my Hunters to assist me I'm stuck having to fend off ever increasing monster attacks by myself _and _try and defend my few remaining anchors to this world."

"What do you mean by that?" Samson looks at sees Samuel has returned back to them with Grapes cradled in his arms, "What are these 'anchors' you're talking about?"

The Goddess of the hunt turns to Samson and nods at him. Samson understands her unspoken command and begins a brief explanation of the nature of the Olympian Gods.

"Olympian Gods are beings not of this world. They belong to the heavens, a different world from ours, and to ensure they have the ability to walk the mortal world in physical forms they need physical things to tie them to the mortal world. For most Gods, a temple is all they need, even if it's a ruin. Others have totems or monoliths of some type scattered and hidden throughout the world. In Artemis's case, she has to rely on those monoliths as her temple was burned down thousands of years ago and never rebuilt. If something is destroying her monoliths, then they're trying to limit her power over the mortal world, something we don't want."

"I am the first guardian of the Greek and Roman Worlds," Artemis says plainly, "Without me and my Hunters to seek out and destroy fierce beasts, without us destroying monster nests and controlling the ever-expanding population, Demigods will be overrun by monsters. In fact, long ago Camp Half Blood was almost destroyed when my Hunt failed to control the population that year. You need me if you ever wish for a halfway decent life. The emperors of old have blinded my fellow's ability to view the Earth, powers of unknown origin move in the dark and the Council of Olympus is still licking their wounds from the Earth Mother's rise to strength. We're weakened, and in our weakness other, less powerful but far more intelligent enemies have risen and found themselves in a position of strength."

"We need Artemis, we need the Hunt," Samson explains. Even with limited information, the Son of Athena is well aware of how important Artemis is for the survivability of every demigod in the North American continent, "If someone is going after the Gods like this, then it's out duty to stop them. Not just for Olympus, but for ourselves."

Samuel nods. He needs no further convincing, he's smart enough to connect the dots and understand how important it is to have something as powerful as the Hunt out there protecting his safety, "Got it. No further explanation needed. What's our first step, then?"

"What's your loadout?" Artemis questions without a moment's pause, "I need to know what you're armed with, and if I'll need to cover any of your weaknesses."

"_Well," _Samuels says with just a hint of sass, "You took my gun from me, so I'm working with nothing but a sword!"

"Hey!" Samson interjects, "It's not _just _a sword! Razor is _my _sword, which means it's the best sword you've ever seen! It burns like Greek fire, cuts like the wind, Razor cut open armor like it's cheap paper!"

"Yeah, well… okay, so it's an epic sword, what of it?! I'm limited if all I have is an epic sword and my powers. I don't even have a shield! I can make certain enemies go berserk and attack at random, and I can summon up to a dozen spirits to assist me. I'm a tank without heavy weapons. Not much of a front line fighter if i'm not working with all of my gear. Besides that, I'm an expert at espionage, but still, that means nothing if I have no ranged capability!"

Artemis nods at Samuel's explanation of his current capabilities and turns to Samson, "And what of you? Do you still posses the bow? And what of Abigail? Her fighting prowess and speed would complement my needs well and fill in the gap we have with Samuel."

Samson raises his eyebrows in a curious expression and scratches the side of his head, "You know what? I actually don't know anymore. Now that Selene and I have separated our souls into two different entities I'm unsure if I can summon my bow _or _become Abigail any longer. I suppose it's worth a shot, just to see. I can't see it working, however, as Abigail _was _Selene, and she and I are no longer connected."

The Goddess of the Hunt taps her chin in thought, "…When was your birthday?"

"June 5th, 1949, why?"

Something twinkles in her eye, as though a surprising revelation has been unveiled to her, "Try to summon your bow and become Abigail. I believe I know the answer, but I'd like to see it before my very eyes."

Samson nods and closes his eyes. Before Samuel can question what the two of them are even talking about, he looks away as Samson's body glows white before fading back to normal colors, leaving a completely different person in his place.

Samuel looks back and forth between the mysterious girl that replaced Samson and Artemis. Grapes simply waits for an answer as he snuggles into Samuels arms. In his many years of life, the sprite has learned that asking too many questions only leads to headaches. It's just simply better to go with the flow.

The mysterious girl looks down at her hands when suddenly an ornate, silver bow decorated with iconography of bulls appears in her grip. She turns to the goddess of the Hunt with a bewildered expression.

"How… how can this be? How is it I still exist?!"

"It's simply in your nature," Artemis explains, "You were born under the Gemini constellation. Duality is simply an essential essence to your being. For demigods, this simply means they have some quirk related to duality. But you're no demigod. You are a deity, and your duality manifested in a more real sense. Like how Diana and I are the same being, only both aspects of your presence are Greek with different skills and powers. Congratulations, Abigail, you and Samson share the same being once again."

The Goddess offers the black-haired woman a welcoming smile, and the shocked younger deity simply smiles in happiness at her return.

Samuel, however, is still unsatisfied. He has _no _clue what the fuck is going on, and he'll be damned if he just lets them get away without telling him anything!

Sensing Samuel's building frustrations, Artemis and Abigail turn to Samuel, "Perhaps an explanation is in order."

* * *

Samuel's seen some shit, man, he's seen some shit. He thought he couldn't be surprised by things anymore, but call him an idiot when he found out his Godfather can also turn into a Godmother who was apparently his Godfather's previous reincarnation that somehow can switch places with him on command through some kind of magic bullshittery.

Whatever, he can't be bothered to be bothered by this. Abifail or whatever her name is can go die in a hole just like Samson when this whole escapade with the Gods is finished. At least she doesn't bother him so much like Samson seems to enjoy doing.

The new girl seems much more withdrawn than even Artemis is, having not even said a word to Samuel upon her apparent 'return'. Though she hasn't said much to Artemis, her apparent former master either. Whatever this lady's deal is Samuel doesn't know.

Not that he cares, he has to remind himself.

Their journey with Artemis began exactly after they dropped a bombshell of a story on Samuel's head. Seriously, he didn't even have time to process what kind of fucked up story they told him before practically sprinting out into the forest and leaving him behind.

It took all of Samuel's might to catch up with them, and even more so to _maintain speed _with them, too.

Seriously, Hunters don't mess around, he hasn't felt this winded in years, or maybe even ever! They're only maybe an hour into the hunt for Artemis's mysterious enemies, and they're not even going after them yet!

Their first stop is a nearby lake, which for them nearby means several miles away, something Samuel isn't looking forward to sprinting all the way to.

Damn stupid disease! Damn stupid gods! At least he has Grapes to struggle with him! Speaking of which, where is that smug little sprite?

Samuel looks over to Abigail and sees something strange clutched in her arms. It takes him only a few seconds to realize that Grapes is letting her carry him around, meaning he can just relax while everybody else does all the work!

Grapes spots Samuel glaring and gives him a smug grin and a happy little raised middle finger.

That's it, when all is said and done, Samuel's going to kill that cute little asshole by the end of this!


	22. The Calm Before the Mountain

**A/N: Alright everybody, I promise we'll get some action this chapter. In fact, action is what moves the plot in this part of the story. And we should be getting some fun action, too, since we're seeing essentially what being a companion to Artemis is like. Also, yes, Abigail's back. It's already been explained how, so no need to trek over that. However, her presence isn't just the same as the last story. But I'll get into that later. For now, enjoy the next chapter.**

* * *

The lake is quiet, serene, peaceful. A young fawn dips over a small edge and gently laps up its fill of water, when suddenly its instincts start buzzing in the back of its mind.

Its head snaps towards the mysterious sounds quickly racing towards the lake. Fight or Flight activates, and the young fawn freezes in place.

Trees and bushes crack and crone as what must be the fiercest beast crashes through them with little care for the damage it's doing to the precious forest. The beast _howls _in pain, and the fawn finds itself shaking in fear.

It's almost here!

A brown blur suddenly lands in front of the infant deer, followed by another a few seconds after. The deer almost bolted but found itself relieved when the familiar comforting aura of the Nature Goddess washes away its anxiety.

Unfortunately, the beast then arrived, and it crashes through the brush and landed right on top of the poor fawn.

Samuel groans from the impact, but only manages a half-gasp, half-choking sound. Gods, he is _exhausted! _The two ladies dead sprinted at least ten miles through the forest at a speed he finds himself impressed by.

Of course, he did keep up with them. The difference between him and them, however is a matter of endurance.

Whereas the strange not-Samson lady and Artemis stopped without so much of drop of sweat from their brows. Samuel on the other hand, he literally crashed in exhaustion when they finally stopped at the lake.

"F-fuck!" Samuel gasps out, "I-I can't, phew! I need a breather!"

Artemis rolls her eyes, "Infant. If you wish to stay with us, you must be better. I will not be responsible for your fate if you fall behind and get caught out of position by a horde of beasts."

Samuel grits his teeth and glares at her, "Is that why you cheat and give your Hunters all the power they need to keep up with you?! Everyone else has to work their ass off for their own strength, yet your Hunters just get given it and act like they're better! Face it, without you cheating all of your Hunters would be whining like me!"

"You're right," Artemis agrees, shocking Samuel, "But you're wrong about one thing. My Hunters earned their boon by virtue of character and spirit. They're worthy of holding the mantle of my power, something you aren't. I admit that arrogance pervades my Hunt, but it is something I am aware of. Can you say the same, Spawn of the Darkness? Before you criticize others, you should look inwards first."

She turns away and marches towards the lake. Samuel fumes silently and pushes himself off the ground, completely oblivious to the tiny deer that bolts once it's freed from his weight.

He growls and runs a hand through his hair, inwardly trying to push his anger away before he says something that'll get him killed by the trigger-happy goddess.

"The trick is to not talk to her," Samuel turns and sees the Samson-lady looking at him, "Just do what she says without talking to her much. The more you talk to her, the more she'll piss you off. Trust me, I know her quite well. Rest and let us handle acquiring the cure, you'll need all the strength you can muster on this hunt."

And then she was gone without another word, not even waiting for Samuel to try and ask a question or get some goddamn exposition about this whole situation!

He sighs and throws his ass onto a nearby stump and uses a breathing technique he learned at Camp to quickly regain his energy. A wave of gentle energy suddenly covers the area, and Samuel sees Nimué emerging gracefully from the water.

He sighs and stands up with a heavy groan and joins his 'companions' as the hold council with the deity of fresh water.

* * *

"Nimué," Artemis says casually, "I've been told you have a cure for this useless boy right here."

Samuel rolls his eyes at Artemis's insult and crosses his arms in disinterest. Nimué stifles a giggle and quickly shoots Samuel an apologetic look before turning her attention back to Artemis.

"A pleasure to see you again, too," She sasses, "You are correct. The Son of Eris came to me in a time of need, and I responded with kindness."

Nimué turns to Abigail and gently nods, "Samson? No, you're the other one. Do you have what I've requested? Only the combination of my enchanted water, the Kibisis and Moly can cure your companion."

Abigail nods and reaches into her pocket, taking out the Kibisis and a bushel of Moly Samson received from Maia. She approaches the waters' edge and hands them over to the Nymph. The Spirit of the lake takes the bag and gently fills it up with the lake's water. Next, she takes the herb and crushes it in her hands and puts it inside the Kibisis and closes the tie.

Samuel watches the… ritual or whatever is going on with disinterest. If he's being honest, the payoff for how much they had to go through for his cure is fairly anticlimactic. Nimué's doing something magical with the bag, blue energy is emanating from her palm and absorbing into the godly bag Hermes forgot to recover from Perseus like a couple thousand years ago.

It's no wonder he loses his Caduceus like a million times. For being a god whose job is to organize and deliver mail, he's remarkably bad at keeping track of his own things.

The process of the cure is taking a minute, so he stretches his aching back and quickly peeks at his companions as they're much more interesting despite how bland they all are to him.

Grapes straight up is sleeping on Samuel's feet like a cat. He's even curled up in a little donut with one foot sticking out weird. Samuel barely manages to keep a smile from forming on his face and shifts his gaze to his next companion.

Artemis, whom Samuel is quickly disliking, is idly cleaning dirt from her nails while she waits for Nimué to finish her business.

Now that he has time to actually look at her, Samuel realizes her outfit is basically identical to Samson/Abigail's gear. The only difference is _her _silver jacket doesn't have those freaking grenade flowers growing from them.

Samuel is _really _curious about them, it's one of those weird things you come across every so often that despite your feelings on the individual, it's so weird you _just have to _know what's up with it.

Artemis's silvery eyes glance at Samuel, and he quickly shifts his gaze away when he feels a death aura radiating from the goddess.

Yup, he's not fucking around with her. He _knows _that she's the one goddess not to fuck with, literally and figuratively. He looks at his… godmother? Godfather? Whatever the fuck Abigail is?

She's really fucking weird.

And not just because her personality is as bland as the color white. It's because of the fact that the _man _he's been forced to work with for over a month now is suddenly a completely different person and a woman, too.

Also, get those nasty, sinful thoughts out of your minds, sinners! Just because he's a guy doesn't mean his wiener is going crazy around some random lady who is _also his relative._

Though he will admit, Artemis is pretty fucking hot when she shapeshifts into a body close to his age. Unbeknownst to him, Abigail thinks so, too.

Anyways, Abigail or whatever the fuck her name is basically looks like a slightly more girly version of Samson. He says slightly because Samson is already super feminine looking. The only difference is that she has hips and obviously breasts, which you can hardly tell she has because of how baggy Samson's jacket is around her shoulders.

Samson is already a tiny person, Abigail is even smaller. Her hair is basically identical, only slightly longer than Samson's. Really, that's about it. Besides personality and obvious equipment differences between the male and female sexes, there's not much else to say.

Thankfully, Nimué just finished the potion and gently hands it over to Samuel.

"O darkened warrior, accept this potion with my greatest gratitude. I've added my own special blessing to this cure. It shall unlock your stamina to its greatest magnitude. You shall need it if you wish to survive your coming woes."

The Lady of the Lake smiles gently and turns back to Artemis, a certain serious resolve flashing in her eyes. Artemis notices, and her expression hardens.

Oh, is something serious going on? Sweet!

"You've seen something," It's not a question. Artemis knows for certain Nimué has important knowledge.

"Yes. I've seen it. A black shadow flying high in the sky, bellowing abyssal fire from its maw. Beware, Lady of the Hunt, Cychreides haunts the skies."

With her peace said, the Lady of the Lake vanishes into her water, disappearing completely. Samuel glances at Artemis with a curious expression.

The Goddess suddenly turns around and starts marching towards the forest without a word.

"My Lady?" Abigail says carefully. Artemis stops and looks up at the sky as the suns starts dipping below the horizon.

"Set up camp. Tomorrow, we hunt a dragon."

* * *

"Nine hundred and ninety-eight… nine hundred ninety-nine, one thousand!"

Samuel jumps to his feet, having just completed a thousand one-handed pushups without so much as feeling an ounce of exhaustion or tiredness.

Damn, that potion he got from the Lady of the Lake is awesome! Not only is he cured, but the elixir has also boosted his stamina to such a degree that he's not even tired from over two thousand onehanded pushups, one thousand for each arm.

The night moon is high in the sky, likely almost midnight by his guess. They set up camp by the lake side, three tents surrounding a nice, big bonfire. Of course, their benefactor told them they must hunt their own food if they want to eat.

Thankfully Samuel managed to find a tiny deer sleeping only a few hundred feet from their camp site. He killed and quickly butchered it, feeding the offal to Grapes and sharing the plethora of meat with Abigail.

Artemis retired to her tent as soon as it was constructed. She told them they'll leave as soon as the sun is up, which at this time of season should be around seven o'clock in the morning, and then quickly disappeared after.

Samuel plops down on a log he dragged over by the fire as a seat and sits down. He grabs a steak he was smoking over the fire with a stick and starts tearing into the cooked, juicy venison. He moans in pleasure from the game flavored, the smoked flavor mixed perfectly with some herbs he found nearby combines into an excellent flavor that can only be appreciated by a true man of the wild.

Abigail raises an eyebrow at the… interesting sounds.

"…You really like your meat, don't you?"

Samuel nods and takes another healthy bite from his steak. Abigail rolls her eyes and mutters 'boys' to herself and takes her own steak from the fire.

The Son of Eris finishes off his steak, licking the leftover juices from his fingers and leaning back with a satisfied sigh.

The fire crackles gently in the night, faint chirps of insects and other tiny creatures echo deep into the forest. Even during the knight with snow fast approaching, life is active and full of vibrancy.

Samuel, consumed by boredom, does the unthinkable; he strikes up a conversation with Abigail.

"So… what's with the dragon we're hunting?"

Abigail swallows her bite of steak, "…He was a dragon from a minor story a long time ago. You won't find much on Wikipedia, but the story I know is this: A demigod named Cychreus slew a dragon terrorizing the island of Salamis, for which the monster was named Cychreides. Honestly, to history that's it. For us, the dragon is likely the beast destroying Artemis's anchors to the world. Artemis and her Hunters are the only people actively hunting dragons in the current age. Likely Cychreides is getting revenge for all of his fallen brethren, or maybe even revenge for himself if he was killed by Artemis before. When I was in the hunt, I never encountered him, but it's clear there's more bothering her than we know. I suspect a personal reason. What it is I don't know."

The Son of Eris nods and looks up at the sky. Well, he supposes he better get some rest. According to the Goddess of Bitches, they're hunting a dragon tomorrow.

He can't help but feel slightly excited. Tomorrow will be _awesome!_

* * *

Trees pass by so fast they're like a blur. Artemis is pushing her temporary Hunters to their max speed, much more than Abigail remembers as being usual.

Something is happening, she's sure of it.

Even though the goddess didn't say a single word to anyone as they were packing up camp this morning, he can tell for certain there's an incredible urgency lingering in the air.

Artemis is anxious, or otherwise her cool is being tested by something, and Samuel knows that it has nothing to do with him or his comrades.

Suddenly, Artemis curses and summons her godly bow, pointing the magnificently beautiful weapon of death into the sky and releasing a flurry of arrows at blinding speed her arm blurred like a hummingbird's wings just as a massive darkness zoomed over their heads.

A hurricane gale erupts violently from behind the company, knocking Samson to his feet and launching Grapes far away. Samuel feel an unpleasant feeling pool in his gut, but it vanishes quickly as he sees Grapes catch himself with his wings as the furious wind subsides.

"Holy shit, the hell was that?" Artemis doesn't respond as she continues zooming like a cheetah through the forest. Abigail, Samson and Grapes follow suit, barely keeping up with the goddess as she launches arrow after arrow into the sky and through the canopy at something they can't see.

Another blast of hurricane wind pumps through the trees, this time in front of the group. The wind is powerful and deafening, but the group holds their ground and plant their feet firmly against the furious wind. The gale subsides, and the race continues.

"Ready yourselves!" Artemis screams, "The beast is just ahead!"

Samuel activates Razor in his hand, the deadly blue fire crackling and flurrying in the random wind. Abigail takes a golden cylinder from her pocket, and in an instant the Dragonslayer Spear is summoned to its full glory in her hands.

Grapes has nothing, so he just sticks by Abigail as her weapon looks the safest to be around.

Artemis bursts from the tree line into a large opening in the forest overlooking a valley with mountains viewable far in the distance. Despite being so high in the sky with a clear view of the land all around, Samuel can't see _anything _out of the ordinary, and that thought scares him.

Where the hell did it go?

As if reading his mind, a shadow suddenly flies up from over the edge overlooking the valley. Dark wings black like coal extend out, as though the beast were saying 'witness me' as it flies over their heads and crashes to the ground behind them with a thundering roar.

Samuel curses as he realizes the dragon has effectively cornered them, its large size and position limits their movements and makes retreat nearly impossible now that it blocks the only exit back into the forest.

The beast stomps its car sized hand into the ground, shaking the whole mountain like an earthquake and bellows out the most terrifying and powerful roar he's ever heard.

Eyes burning like the pit of the Earth, scales as hard as steel and as black as night, four legs as thick as ancient oak and as powerful as the strongest giant, two wings folded behind the shoulders with a row of spikes running along the spine and ending at the tip of the take like a massive spear head. And at the head; Six horns in increasing size hug the frame of the jaw up to the eyes, like a crown made of bone reaching high with the biggest horn being even longer than the length of the head.

The beast stands as a mountain before the Hunters. Its size so massive in comparison that Samuel believes fully the dragon weighs just as much as the entirety of his mansion easily, if not more.

A feeling of dread overcomes Samuel. A deep hole wells in his heart and a wave of nausea builds in his throat. He grips his sword tight, but the weapon feels odd. Are… are his hands shaking?

Suddenly it clicks in his mind. What this nasty, horrible feeling is.

Fear. Samuel Strife is afraid.

"Courage! Courage!" Artemis yells, her voice cutting through the aura of despair emanating from the dragon, "You have the Goddess of the Hunt on your side! We cannot lose this fight!"

…That's right! Samuel adjusts his grips on his sword and the shaking in his hands stops. How could he let something like fear over come him?! He's fought hundreds of monsters, each just as terrifying as this one without so much as an ounce of fear.

And this time, he's not alone! Abigail raises her spear and pints the bane of Dragons at her foe, Artemis prepares a glorious arrow and aims it straight for the abyssal beasts' heart. And Samuel, the odd man out with the weapon the least suited to fighting a dragon grips his weapon with absolute surety.

There's no way they can lose! He has absolute confidence in himself and his companions. This is nothing, this fight is practically a joke!

"COME AT ME BEAST!" Samuel roars, charging head on at the mountain before him, "I'M GONNA SHOVE MY SWORD IN YOUR EYE!"

It's a promise. And anyone who knows Samuel Strife personally knows that a promise from him is destined to happen. Soon, the dragon will too.


	23. Fare thee Well

**A/N: Hey… so, remember when I said I was going to be keeping a consistent upload schedule? Yeah…. My bad ya'll. I've had some personal business going on, but I've gone passed it so I'm hopefully back on a better uploading schedule. I'm sorry for blue balling everyone like this for so long, but I promise we'll get a cool chapter today.**

* * *

Let it be known to all you little kiddies out there in the world, charging a multi ton dragon solo with nothing but a sword is a very bad idea.

In Samuel's defense, he was kinda pumping himself up full of adrenaline. Like, how often do you get to fight a dragon?! Let alone a _second _dragon!

It has been a ridiculously long time since Samuel killed Cychreides with… his old friend who died doing so, but just looking at this beast Samuel knows for certain that this is _not the same dragon. _This one is completely new and much smaller, but with feet as large as cars whomever this dragon is isn't too far away from being close to Cychreides' size.

Anyways, where was Samuel? Oh yeah, charging a beast bigger than a blue whale is a bad idea.

The armored behemoth rears its massive head back and inhales deeply, the sound being audible to Samuel even from far away.

"Uh oh."

Samuel stops in his tracks and quickly hauls ass back towards Artemis, curses flying from his mouth as a roaring blast of devastating fire flies from the dragon's maw, the heat catching up to Samuel before the fire does.

He makes a mental note to thank his Mother for another reason when he sees her again as his coat protects most of his body from being boiled alive just from the hot air, but he's more than certain a direct blast from that fire would turn him into a pile of ash quicker than he could yell 'mother fucker'.

The only problem with his plan, however, is that he has nowhere to run for cover. The clearing the defacto Hunters find themselves in overlooks a cliff leading into a valley hundreds of feet deep, and the sheer size of the beast prevents them from fleeing back into the forest as it blocks them in with its body.

Sensing no alternative, Samuel makes for the edge of the cliff with the idea to hang from the edge and hope the fire blows over without scorching him to death. It's a half assed plan, maybe even full assed, but he's got no alternative.

Before he can throw himself to safety, he's knocked to his ass by a blast of wind that hits like a hurricane. Instantly the searing, blistering heat is dispelled by the furious gale that overtakes the roar of the fire like a cannon explosion.

It's over faster than it started, and Samuel blinks rapidly as he tries to regain his senses. He coughs weakly for good measure and lifts his head to look at Artemis.

The goddess's arm is sticking out with her hand in a fist, steam faintly trailing from her fingers and crossing her stony gaze, further pointing out how freaking scary the goddess is if you take any amount of physics into play with what she just did.

"Holy shit… did you just punch a dragon's fire away?"

She doesn't even deign him with a proper response. Instead she maintains her stoic, stony glare at the dragon and lowers her arm. Like some kind of comic drama, the shadows seem hard across her features, like Wonder Woman or something.

Jesus Christ… thank god she's on his side!

Samuel pushes himself back to his feet and quickly makes his way back to Artemis and Abigail. Grapes flies quickly to Samuel's side and hides behind his legs, the poor sprite is deathly terrified of Artemis.

Funny, Samuel feels like doing the same thing with Artemis, but only because she's the one safety net he has for not being roasted into a giant hotdog.

He coughs awkwardly into his fist and Artemis's shivering gaze quickly snaps to meet his eyes. He totally didn't flinch by the way, anyone who did is a total loser and a liar!

She raises a single eyebrow and Samuel pretends like he has a cold before gathering his wits, "Ehem… Yeah, so, um… that's not Archrimedes?"

"…Is that a question?"

"What? Wait, no. I'm saying that the dragon isn't Archrimedes. I fought him _and _killed him once years ago. This one is too small to be the same dragon, though he does look eerily similar…"

Artemis turns her gaze back to the dragon whom is mysteriously quiet for a beast that just tried to kill them a few seconds ago. Maybe it too is scared of the fact that Artemis can literally _punch fire away_.

She crosses her arms and hums silently to herself. The dragon prances about impatiently, steam rising from its nostrils. She can tell it's getting ready to attack again. Good. He who throws the first punch is bound to lose against a competent opponent.

Of course, it never hurts to try and gather up some knowledge while you can. Dragons are notorious for being prideful and arrogant alongside their incredible, which means it is possible to get important information from them simply by stroking their egos.

Same with men, now that she thinks about it. Though men are _much _less impressive than even an infant dragon.

Better she deals with the hassle of stroking a dragon's ego now, at least she has somewhat decent fighters to assist with the coming fight.

One might die. Her guess (and hope) is Samuel.

* * *

Let it be known, Abigail isn't sure everyone is going to survive this encounter. Obviously, Artemis and herself are excluded from that equation. So really only Samuel and Grapes have to worry about the whole dying thing.

Well, the dragon too, but he's going to die regardless since Artemis can obviously solo a dragon what with her One Punch Man All Might bullshit she just pulled off.

Ugh, of course she's going to use this time too to talk with the giant lizard. Abigail has always hated dealing with the intelligent dragonkin. They're ridiculously annoying, only good for a worthy fight.

Just like Samuel, now that she figures. In many ways he's like a dragon, too. Loud, spitting fire, strong and _very_ arrogant.

_While I agree with you on many count, can we perhaps be nicer to our godson?_

The whiplash Abigail received probably would've killed a man. Thankfully she's a god(dess?) so all it did was give her a sore neck.

Hold on, could that be…? Samson?

_In the flesh… ish? Apparently, our connection between forms is growing stronger, now I can see, feel, and hear everything you can with just a little extra. I seem to have the ability to generally sense our surroundings. That'll be handy if we're ever ambushed or outnumbered. Also, I'm in your mind, so our thoughts are shared._

Oh. That's kinda weird, now that she thinks about it. But very useful with the godly radar thing. She would've loved to have that ability when freaking Lamia ambushed and killed her!

Good thing Abigail and Samson are the same person and not two different people sharing a body. Gods, can you imagine having Samuel sharing a body with you? That must be worse than torture.

_Indeed. Anyways, we should focus on the dragon. I can sense Artemis approaching it. I'm curious to see what she has to say to the reptile._

She rolls her eyes and watches Artemis as she speaks to the dragon. Of course Samson, being the big nerd that he is, is interested in a boring ass conversation between a dragon and a goddess.

…Shit, that's actually pretty awesome now that she thinks about it. Like an old vinyl album cover or something.

_Who's the nerd, now? Nerd._

Shut it!

* * *

Samuel watches the beast carefully as Artemis booms her voice across the battlefield, he can tell she's using just a hunt of godly power to make it boom like how Zeus always does, for all the good that does since he does it so often basically everyone is numb to when he raises his voice.

"Listen, beast! You have interfered with my Hunt, damaged my domain and even attempted to murder one of my… _Hunters-_" She grits the last word out like it physically hurts, "-answer for yourself or face my divine justice!"

…Aren't you supposed to stoke a dragon's ego to get them to talk? As far as he can tell it's just a battle of who has the biggest dick right now.

The beast slams a clawed palm into the rock ground and the mountain shakes from his furious blow. It blows a jet of steam from its nose and growls at the unafraid, challenging goddess.

"**Little girls meddle in business not their own! Murderer! That's what your so called 'hunter' is! I am Diomedes! Second born to Cychreides the Great! I shall avenge my father's slaughter, I shall carry his corpse across the lands and water the soil with his foul blood! Stand aside little goddess! Lest you wish to join his fate!"**

Samuel, honest to god, thought she was going to let _Diomedes _do just that! Thankfully, instead she blew off his threat with a promise of her own.

"Foolish beast. You dare assume to kill one under my protection?! Come at me! I could use a new doormat at my temple!"

Short. Sweet, and to the point. Murder. Samuel has to admit, he's starting to like how she operates! Before he couldn't really understand why anyone would trade a free life for an eternity of fighting shit with a goddess that ironically has a stick up her ass. But seeing how she operates and how much strength she has to back it up, he can kinda get why someone desperate would idolize her.

Though for her sake she better leave Hylla out of her cult! She and Him belong together! He didn't go through hell, die and then keep going through hell just for _that _to happen!

Diomedes releases a splitting roar and instantly charges the group of Hunters. In a blur, Artemis zooms past Abigail and himself, like The Flash or something and she shoots hundreds of arrows like machine guns all around the dragon's body, likely probing for a weakness in his scaly armor.

Thankfully, the dragon stops his charge and instead starts swatting around at the super speeding goddess. He lets out a laugh as the arrows shoot off his body, likely enjoying the feeling of seemingly invulnerability.

"**Hahaha! Is this all you can do?!" **He slams his hand into the dirt where Artemis was, leaving a giant hand sized crater followed by more as he tries smashing the goddess,** "I thought you were a great warrior?! I expected so much more from such a renowned warrior! HA!"**

With a shout, he slams his fist right on top of Artemis. He laughs cruelly at his apparent victory, only to be cut short when his fist starts moving by itself. He gawks in disbelief as Artemis, completely uninjured from such a serious blow, throws his hand far away and quickly, in the blink of an eye, shoot an arrow straight into the slit, volcanic pupil of Diomedes.

"**GAAAAAAAAGH! TRICKORY! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!"**

Using the moment of opportunity, Samuel and Abigail race towards the thrashing titan. Abigail tosses her spear like a javelin and scores the dragon right in the ribs. The scales part before the spear with such ease that Samuel fins himself being thoroughly impressed by the spear's amazing ability.

Looks like all of Samson's talk about it being the 'bane of dragons' was right. Though he guessed as much since the odd, cross-guard-spear weapon is literally called _The Dragonslayer Spear._

Samuel completes the combo by jumping high into the air and grabbing onto the long handle of the spear. With a sharp tug, he yanks the spear down and slices a long gash down the length of the ribs. He yanks the spear free and drops to the floor, tossing the weapon back to Abigail as he leaps forward just in time as Diomedes rolls to his side in an attempt to squish Samuel.

Diomedes thrashes wildly now in a rage. Half blinded with ribs exposed, the once terrifying beast is left a weak mess, rage overtakes his mind and he wildly throws his limbs about in an attempt to accomplish anything all the while his foes stand far away and wait for an opportunity to strike again.

In a split second, Artemis sees her chance. Diomedes beats his wings with no coordination, thus preventing him from flying and instead throws wind and dust everywhere. Quickly a plan forms in her mind and she's off again.

Fire starts flying wildly from the dragon's maw, scorching the trees and the nearby surroundings but thankfully overshooting everyone in their position.

Suddenly he jerks his head and launches a blast of fire in Artemis's direction. He must've heard her running, but in a show of incredible strength and agility she gracefully leaps over the fire and lands on the tip of his wing as it slams into the ground. Quickly she takes her dagger and shoves it into the lighter, weaker scales of his flight limb.

Diomedes cries in pain as the divine metal slides into his flesh and instinctively he throws his wing out and beats it against the ground, effectively launching Artemis high into the sky.

She goes flying a hundred feet into the air, and on her way down Samuel watches in awe as she suddenly grows from an average height of five and a half feet to well over twenty.

Her feet crash into the ground like a cannon ball as she drives her elbow into the neck of Diomedes. He coughs out gallons of blood from the gravity empowered blow, but before he can breathe fire to burn her away she grabs his jack and snaps it shut with one hand, and in the other she grabs his leg like a wrestler and yanks it into the air.

The dragon slams into the ground and struggles fiercely to break out of Artemis' hold, but her being a daughter of Zeus _and _an Olympian grants her strength like Hercules. Her hold is iron and unbreaking, and Diomedes knows this.

He thrashes wildly in a panic now, but her hold is absolute. Artemis turns her fierce gaze to Abigail and Samuel who watch in awe and snaps at them, "GET OVER HERE AND FINISH THE JOB!"

They flinch from her piercing tone, but quickly they rush the dragon, repeating their same winning combo from last time. Abigail tosses her spear right into Diomedes neck, and Samuel jumps high into the air to reach out and gore Diomedes' neck open.

However, that is when everything had to go wrong. Suddenly a _huge _shadow flies from the edge of the cliff and slams into Artemis. A long gash cuts across her face as the shadow passes, godly blood spills from her face and blinds her as it pours into her eyes.

Her grip weakens slightly from the surprise attack, and in that moment Diomedes finds his relief. The single clawed talon on his wing reaches up and stabs into the arm Artemis uses to pinch his mouth shut. He pulls with all his might and yanks her hand from his maw. In an instant he rears his head back and bites Artemis in the crook of her neck. _Hard._

More blood spills into his mouth, and with a rush of adrenaline he yanks his head hard and tosses the goddess right off the edge of the cliff!

Samuel curses as their only useful weapon is yanked from its target and tossed into the forest, and he curses even harder as Diomedes turns his single good eye to him and seemingly smirks smugly as he approaches.

He stands to his feet and summons his sword to his hand, for all the good it'll do now, and readies himself to die like a legend. Maybe that'll help Hylla when she finds out he went out like a baddass?

Yeah… she's going to be _furious._

Before the hulking beast can come down on Samuel, a blur quickly shoots past him and flies right into the dragon's good eye! Samuel watches in horror as Grapes' jaw unhinges and his sharp teeth rips into Diomedes eye and _rips the fucking thing out!_

For a second Samuel feels like they have a chance to win again, but fate has a way of giving what you take. Diomedes slaps his clawed, _heavy _hand onto his eye and Samuel feels all the blood drain from his face as a muffled _crunch _reaches his ears.

All he can see is red, and for his _friend _Samuel roars and races at the dragon to rip it to fucking pieces! He hears someone shouting his name behind him, but his mind is focused.

Unfortunately, dragons have wonderful hearing and precision with their body parts. Diomedes spins around and whips his tail at Samuel with blinding speeds! The whip-like tail slams into his chest, knocking sense back into him as the appendage _drags him _across the ground and launches him high into the tree.

Weakly he can see the dragon backhand Abigail over the edge of the cliff before he finally falls into the trees he was tossed towards. By some miracle, the trees were full of leaves and weak branches that managed to slow his fall enough that when he did finally smack into the ground he didn't outright _die._

A benefit to being a demigod is durability, and by the gods that really came in handy right now!

He thumps disgracefully into the ground, his mouth basically eating the falling leaves and dirt, and once a few moments pass he can feel the splitting pain of basically all of his ribs broken with the added weight of a body on top of them.

Weakly he flops over onto his back, gaining a small amount of relief, but the hollow feeling in his chest perhaps hurts worse than the broken bones.

He just… _lost, _and not even by a sliver. He lost _hard _and as far as he can tell, his friend and comrades are dead with him soon to follow suit if he isn't healed like _right now._

…Yup, no one's coming.

He's not sure what was up with that other shadow that appeared and fucked everything up, but he supposes he shouldn't really worry since he'll probably die before someone can save him.

Well, being killed by a dragon is a pretty awesome way to go. He just hopes Hylla finds peace with someone eventually.

With a final sigh, he closes his eyes and waits patiently for death to take him.


	24. The Midnight Dragon

**Hey everyone, hope all those who celebrate had a wonderful Thanksgiving! I celebrated with my roommates this year, but we had a wonderful time. We even gave our dogs little meals in their bowls too. Anyways, no one wants to know about authors, it's about the content! On with the chapter!**

* * *

Dying kind of takes a while.

…Don't give him that look! Sure, maybe saying he was _going to die _might've been a tiny bit of an overreaction! But can you blame Samuel? He got bitch slapped by a dragon's tail and thrown into a bunch of trees. Even demigods would die from something like that, like say Samuel Strife.

He's been sitting on the forest floor for about ten minutes now, and he's for damn certain he's broke like _all _of his ribs. He sighs and puts his hands behind his head, eyes still closed as he waits for death to embrace him.

…Any minute now.

"Strife."

That's just the voice of a desperate subconsciousness. Ignore it, death first!

"Strife, stop being dramatic."

He can see it already! Open fields of Elysium full of buffets and drinks! His dad, too, if that dream he had forever ago is anything to go off of. If only he'd die quicker! Then again, if he hasn't died already maybe he should try and live life just a little longer? Ugh, life sucks, but FINE. He'll actively try and avoid his death.

Samuel opens his eyes and immediately meets the disapproving gaze of a certain Silver eyed goddess. She has a hand on her hip with a baggie of what Samuel assumes to be ambrosia. He cocks his head to the side when he sees she's not bloody and beaten up from being bit by a dragon and thrown off a cliff.

She drops the bag on his chest, "Eat this so you don't die. I'd rather not be the one who has to break the news to Eris her prized son died." Artemis shudders almost imperceptibly, "She's as bad as Ares when he gets fussy. I can't believe they have such a friendship."

Artemis turns around and heads into the clearing they fought the Diomedes in. Before she is fully gone from view, she looks over her shoulder and calls out to Samuel, "Join us when you're ready. We have much to discuss going forward."

Samuel sighs and opens the baggie of (drugs) ambrosia and pops a square in his mouth. Oh yeah, pork ribs this time! Sweet barbeque glaze, just a little spicy. YES. He's not sure why, but ambrosia always has a different flavor for him every time he eats some.

Oh well, the soothing magic of the godly food works wonders on his broken body and numbs his pain. He sighs in bliss for a moment, ambrosia and nectar have always had a blissful effect on half-blood bodies. Kinda like being drunk, now that he thinks about it.

…Huh, is he addicted?

"SAMUEL!"

Fine, fine, enough messing around!

* * *

It has been a… rough day, so to say. First, she's cursed with looking after two idiot Hunters, though Samson and his copilot Abigail make for nice enough company, it's just the little antichrist she's not fond of. Then, barely into the Hunt to find out who's trying to sever her connection to the mortal world, Cychreides' bastard son shows up with something else and nearly kills her only hunting companions, never mind the gigantic bite he took out of her.

Thankfully she had plenty of energy to heal herself and borrowing Samson's bandana helped regain her lost energy too. Even though the fiasco Samson caused by creating divine level artifacts certainly scared the toga off her father, even he has to admit it's impressive for a then demigod to create such items without any training from the elder cyclopes of the telekhines.

That's not really what matters, she supposes. What matters right now is the total failure that took place not less than fifteen minutes ago. She can feel it, call it godly intuition, that something is plotting against her. And not just those so called 'god-emperors' her brother is dealing with.

There's something else out there, what it is she has no clue, though knowing how The Fates handle things, it's tied with the two idiots forced into her care.

Though she has to admit, the two are certainly an interesting combination. One is a child of Eris, born from a lineage of gods related to the dark. The other born from a goddess of the light, the heavens, including the fact that his soul was reborn from the mortalized soul of the old Lunar Titan.

Where there is darkness there is light and vice versa.

The number of opposite parallels between the two of them is far too much to ignore. They're both important to one another, in some way even if they refuse to see it.

Funny. Even if she'll never show it, she's quite curious to see how this tale of two Sam's will play out. A son of the dark, and a son of the light. Two opposites to the same side of the coin.

Two Sons of War.

* * *

Samuel emerges from the forest into the clearing from before. He clutches his stomach and groans, leaning on the Dragonslayer Spear he found lodged in a tree along the way for support. He wipes the cold sweat from his brow and loos out ahead.

He feels a hollow void in his stomach when he spots only two of three missing companions of the Hunt resting over a burning firepit Artemis created just before he arrived. Said Goddess sits on a log she dragged to the fire and stares deeply in the fire, likely lost in thought pouring over the events of their failure.

Abigail lies down on the ground like a starfish and looks up in the evening sky as night draws close only an hour away.

There's one missing, though Samuel knows in his soul that Grapes is long dead, otherwise the little baby monster would be on him already.

He sighs and limps over by the fire. His leg still aches and fumbles when he puts too much pressure on it, but he can tell thankfully it's not broken. By tomorrow he should be up in working order physically, he's just not sure if his heart will be in the right place, however.

Well, as much as it _fucking sucks_, such is the way of demigods. You get your ass kicked, someone you love dies, and you're expected to just keep going like nothing happed.

Even if Samuel wasn't super close to Grapes like he was to Samson, he still loved it like you would a lifelong pet. The little fucker saved his life, he would've been burnt to a crisp if he hadn't bit Diomedes' eye out, and he payed the price for saving Samuel.

Squished to death, with whatever remains would spawn from his type of Karpos falling blandly to the ground. He can't even hope he'd find peace in the afterlife, he's a nature spirit and therefore tied to a reincarnation cycle related to anything from being a dandelion plant to a tree sapling.

It's idiotic to think he'd ever see him again, let alone Grapes remembering him. Lethe works wonderfully well.

Even reincarnated, Grapes is dead forever.

Samuel growls and kicks a loose stone with all his might, sending the rock flying far over the edge of the cliff. He drops the spear next to Abigail, it flops onto her stomach electing a small 'oof' from her.

She quietly thanks him, but he doesn't hear it. He sits down by the fire and stews in the odd hollowness, or whatever it is.

Taking one from Artemis, Samuel stares deep into the fire, letting the dancing ghosts of red and yellow distract his mind and take him to a different state of being. It's a welcome distraction, for some reason it makes him feel just a little better. Maybe that's why Hestia prefers her hearth to the drama of her family? All the yelling, all the fighting, maybe just sitting around a fire for eternity is the way to go?

"Careful." Samuel is snapped from his hypnosis and blinks rapidly a few times until his mind stops being so foggy. He rubs his tired eyes and turns to look at Artemis.

Her eyes glow silver with a knowingness to them, she turns back to the fire and stirs the cinders around with a stick, setting the logs in just the right way to get the most out of them.

"Careful when staring into a fire. Hestia means well, but I've seen many a mortal lose themselves in the fire never to return. Don't think of it as anything malicious, her fire only means well, and it draws those who hold sorrow in their heart into its embrace. Find flattery in it, she has followers in spirit alone, and not often do they realize she tries to sooth their dark souls."

Samuel turns his gaze away from hers and looks back into the fire. He supposes he shouldn't find it surprising the warmth of fire has a mind of its own, it seems. Hestia is the oldest of the Olympians and by far the most subtle, it makes sense her 'influence' would be the same way.

He stifles a chuckle and leans back with his head behind his head and looks up in the sky, the first starts just starting to twinkle in the night. How long has he been looking at the fire? He could've sworn it was light out still. Huh, he must've been more tired than he thought if an hour staring at the fire felt like a couple minutes instead.

…Man, the constellations look so bright tonight. He spots the newest constellation in the sky, The Huntress, formerly the previous lieutenant of Artemis. Zoe, if he remembers what Percy told him her name was.

Samuel thinks back on the time when she was still alive, who he was and what he was doing at the time. He frowns and shakes his head. That was a long time ago. He was angry and confused, and the Crooked One took advantage of that to manipulate him. He's better now than he ever was, young Samuel was reckless and possessed by anger, he's focuses now, potent.

At least, he hopes he is. For his sake and for the sake of his darling wife, he better be.

* * *

_You know, I'd rather we sit around a fire than the ground. I can feel things crawling on us, it's nasty._

"_Be quiet. I'm trying to sleep."_

_No, you're not. You're sitting on the ground and letting worms crawl in our hair. It's gross._

Abigail rolls her eyes and sits up and pushes herself off the ground and takes a seat on the log by the fire. Even if Samson is a little bitch about properly roughing it up in the wild, she has to admit sitting by a fire _is _pleasant especially since her body is still sore from having her pale ass slapped off a cliff.

Good thing the trees were there to break her fall.

And Artemis, but she wasn't very happy about that. Good thing gods are _very _sturdy, otherwise they would've died like a million times by now.

_Remember that time when Mori blew us out of the side of a mountain? Barely even felt that at first, though I was very sore for weeks after._

Ah. That little fiasco. Back when Selene was still tied to Samson's soul and her Roman half, Luna was brainwashing their wife and making her go crazy. Like say attacking her own husband and believing he was an illusion sent to torment her.

Good times.

_Honestly, I felt like they were pretty awful. I much prefer things now. We're gods, if only just barely, we have our wife back in full health and a wonderful property in some limbo dimension with our psycho nieces living in trees in our backyard. Oh, and our old friend and her sister live with us too. Good thing since our house is so big that two people would feel very lonely after a while._

True. Very True, _"Would you care to switch back?"_

_No thank you. We haven't switched for a while, and you never get as much time as I do. Though I do believe we should try working on a few of our natural godly powers. Other deities can physically split themselves into two beings, and if what Artemis says about our astral sign, I believe it's possible for __**both **__of us to be around at the same time._

"_Interesting. I think that would be a wonderful tool in our arsenal. We'd certainly always have the advantage of surprise if we could figure it out."_

_Agreed. But for now I think we need to be ready. I can feel… something off. I think we may still be in danger._

No truer were Samson's words when Artemis suddenly sprang into action, her bow ready and aimed high in the night sky. Abigail grabs the spear and readies it in the same direction, Samuel doing the same with his sword too.

All is quiet in the night. Only the chirping of insects and the crackling of fire to be heard. However, soon a new sound quietly joins the chorus. It is deep, heavy and consistent. The whooshing of wind as something wide powers through the air. Suddenly, the wind picks up, blowing the fire and making the flames crackle with newly ignited strength.

The full moon looms barely high in the sky, but it is big and bright. And then, the shadow from before returns. In front of the moon darkness blocks out the light in a specific shape. Long, slender, _reptilian _with wings folded across the chest before dramatically unfolding across the light of the Moon's reflection.

Artemis narrows her eyes and motions to her companions to lower their weapons. Both stare at the goddess like she's mad, but with Artemis you always do as she says. The put their weapons by their side as the midnight dragon gently flies down to land on the overhang.

Instantly everyone can tell this beast and the one they just fought are different creatures. Where Diomedes was big, stocky and fat like a bulldog, this beast is narrow, long and much more serpentine despite possessing the same dramatic features.

Where Diomedes was bright, as though to say 'witness me' to his enemies, this dragon is black like coal with shiny scales that are clearly washed unlike the previous dragon's rough scales. Like Diomedes it has the same six horns running from the brow to the crown of the head, each in increasing order only that one of the two largest horns is slightly smaller and bends in to point at the mass of the opposite horn.

Its eyes burn like volcanic rock, just like Diomedes further proving a close relationship, but unlike him this one has far gentler eyes. No malus seeps from the burning orbs. The beast snorts, and to the surprise of everyone a _third eye _opens up in the forehead region, similar to a drawing of a psychic's third eye, only much more real.

The slender dragon folds its wings to its side and bows deeply at Artemis, like how trained Horses at show fairs would. Samuel and Abigail feel like their jaws have fallen off to the floor by the strange happening in front of them.

How?! Why?! Both are certain this was the shadow that attacked them only a few hours ago, so why the sudden change in temperance now?! Both decide individually that Artemis is the one to handle the situation as she seemed to know beforehand that weapons are not needed.

The midnight dragon raises its head once again and looks directly at Artemis. In its eyes Samuel can see very clear intelligence, exactly how a careful negotiator in a hostage crisis would look.

…Or like the gaze of a guilty man coming to the authorities for parlay.

"**Artemis. I come to you now to adjudicate. As you have no doubt guessed, my brother was the one to attack you and slay your… pet, and I was the one to save his life from death. Will you partake in discussion with I?"**

"State the matter of discussion." Artemis's voice is sturdy like a stone and as straight as an arrow. Clearly, she's unhappy with what happened, but even she isn't one to stubbornly ignore when an ally of your enemy comes to you for seemingly a truce.

"**I wish to slay my brother, but I cannot alone. Will we ally, and together topple my pissant brother? Or shall I turn to his side out of desperation for my own safety?"**

The dragons voice is calm and soothing, feminine like an undisturbed pond's waters. Diomedes is the brother dragon, this black dragon must be the sister, then.

Artemis cocks her head to the side, "You saved your own brother from death by my Hunt, yet you wish his death? Such contradictions make me think this is foolery to distract myself. Why should I believe you if your actions speak differently from your words? I've dealt with dragons before, your silver tongue will never fool me."

The dragon snorts, amused by Artemis and her words, **"Simple. I have another brother besides the rock named Diomedes. His name is Archrimedes and he most takes after our father. Had I let my brother die, and had I not been assured safety by a mighty Olympian Goddess, then he'd slay me personally. What I ask is to ally myself in your service, by assuring my safety I will gladly betray my siblings and unveil their plans in full unto you."**

The Moon Goddess hums quietly and taps a finger on her chin, carefully examining the she-dragon, "And what would I gain from this, hmm? I've fought Typhon, and he's of size to use you like a small back scratcher. What is the _real _benefit from your service? Give me just one good reason, and I'd consider your proposition."

If dragons could smirk, then surely this dragon would have a joker smile, **"Simple. I'd safeguard your lost temple. No vandal would ever approach it when the black wings of a thousand-year-old dragon descend upon the fool!"**

Now Artemis adopts a strange, almost Ares-like smile, "Well, now you have my attention."


	25. Light and Dark

**Hey there everybody, It's me, ya boy, this guy. Anyways I'm back with another chapter. I hope everyone is enjoying their December so far, and for my fellow retail workers, I hope your stores aren't getting too stressful for you. Lord knows the people in my store need a break from all of the crap. Enough about that, I did want to talk about an error I made last chapter. There was a few moments where I miswrote Cychreides for Archrimedes. Not really a spoiler since the Black Dragon, who will be named this chapter, says the name anyways.**

* * *

Setting up camp with a dragon was a very… _interesting _experience. On the one hand, getting a fire going was very easy, on the other the dragon almost burned Samuel's tent down, much to his annoyance. Good thing the dragon is patient, otherwise there'd be a Samuel sized pile of ash next to his tent.

Artemis worked details out with the beast, who named herself Valiona-The Black, and the name fits all too well. Not only does it relate to her polished scales that are as black as midnight, it also ties in to her fire surprisingly. The flames she produces are some of the strangest Abigail and Samson have ever seen.

The 'core' of the fire is a muted orange color, almost yellow, but surrounding that like an aura is the darkness, actual black flames crackling with magical energy. Samson was instantly lost in a trance at the strangeness of the fire, retreating to the recesses of their shared mind finally leaving Abigail by herself mostly.

She'll take it. Some nice serenity of a solo mind is something she misses quite a bit.

Valiona shacked up with the Hunt for the night, and when Abigail tried prying more of her plan from the beast she simply blew her off. Literally too. She snored and a blast of air knocked her to the ground like an _asshole._

Artemis gave her a look that said 'leave it' and she did… for now. Not knowing things is how she died the first time around, and this dragon is way more of a bitch than her former best friend ever was.

She'll leave it for now, but she'll try and gather one last bit of information about this plot since neither the dragon nor the Olympian want to tell her much about anything.

* * *

Man, that dragon is a bitch!

…Don't look at him like that, she is! She didn't even say sorry for almost burning his tent down, and Samuel _knows _that a prissy dragon like that _can _have manners!

Ugh, whatever, at first it was super cool having a dragon side with them against the bastard that killed Grapes, may he have a happy next life, but now he's wishing Artemis just killed her instead of listening to what she had to say.

Sure, her fire _is _pretty rad, but that personality really distracts from everything else. Yeah, it was funny watching her knock Abigail to her ass, but he agrees with her that some information about the plan will be handy.

Out of everything Artemis does to annoy him, not properly informing him or Abigail about what's going on really is the most annoying thing. People die because of that, he's _known _people who died because of that. He doesn't want to die because of misinformation, that's really lame.

Speaking of lame, movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and draws his gaze from the fire. Abigail approaches Artemis and strikes up a conversation. Samuel leans over and listens in. If anyone can get _something _from Artemis, maybe her former lieutenant can?

"Mistress?"

"I am no longer your Mistress. You are no longer one of my Hunters, and with Samson you are a fellow deity. Please, both you and your other half have earned the right to refer to me by my name. Use it. Have pride in your status."

He hears Abigail sigh softly before continuing, "I had a question. Valiona mentioned a lost temple, is that perhaps _the _lost temple? The one he who shall not be named burned down? Or perhaps the one sacked by the Goths and eventually left to ruin by the Christians?"

Instantly he can feel electricity in the air, a feeling of anger growing over the area. Whelp, she pushed the button, and now Artemis is going to kill everyone!

…Which didn't happen, thankfully. The overbearing aura quickly dissipates, and he peaks over his shoulder and watches as Artemis says something quietly and disappears into her tent she set up away from everyone else's.

Abigail spins around quickly and sets herself down on a log by the fire. Samuel watches her carefully, but her face betrays no emotion. Sighing, he decides to see what she knows.

"Figure anything out? I _literally felt _her anger from over here."

She's quiet for a few seconds, "I think I've figured out our enemies plans, at the very least."

Samuel leans forward, fairly curious. She continues, "If our enemy is planning on destroying shrines dedicated to Artemis to weaken her presence in the mortal world, then destroying _the _temple dedicated to her is the nail in the coffin."

"I've heard of the Parthenon they rebuilt in Nashville, but never anything dedicated to Artemis. What exactly would it be, then?"

"It's an interesting story, and the answer is one we can only speculate on," She stares curiously into the firs before continuing her story, "The Temple of Artemis was created three times throughout history. The first we don't know much about, only that the Amazons either found it, or built it. Regardless they were the first worshippers and caretakers of the temple. When they were driven out millennia ago, another temple was built later and arguably the most famous of the three for a dire reason."

Abigail sneakily peaks at Artemis' tent before turning back to Samuel, "Never say this name around her, but a man named Herostratus burned the temple to the ground in order to 'immortalize his name'. He did it for the infamy, and even now she gets mad when she hears his name. Don't _ever _say it around her, by the way. The third, largest and final version was built after Alexander the Great died, and it was around for centuries until it was sacked by the Goths, an early Germanic Tribe, and eventually dismantled by Christians to be used in their works. The whole affair is one she doesn't like to talk about since so much of the ancient world was destroyed by mankind and history was eschewed by the Christians until nearly everything was destroyed."

"Wait," Samuel Says, "If it was destroyed, then how are we supposed to be protecting it then?"

"This is where it gets odd. When the heart of the west moved to America, so too did things related to the gods. Mount Olympus, Mount Othrys, Medusa's Garden, Camp Half Blood, they all moved over with the gods. It seems that things were 'reset' in a way, and Artemis's temple, or more likely the ruins of it, came over as well. My guess is Artemis hid the location of her temple to safeguard it from vandalism, but our enemy likely is hunting for the location to destroy it. That means we're racing after them to destroy them first."

Samuel leans back with a curious expression on his face. Now that he thinks about it, things really are mysterious in the world around them. Greek and Roman Gods in America, mysterious teleporting structures and a whole bunch of godly magic. This stuff makes no sense to him, but then again he's not a scholar or a wizard or anything.

Fuck, he's just trying to get this stuff over with so he can go back home to his wife and his garden. There's a bunch of weeds growing in his garden and he is _not _having any of that.

"-so that's why we need to be on our guard, or we will die horribly."

Shit, he forgot she was still talking. Damn, she's just as bad as Samson.

"Yeah, yeah, message received. Don't drop the H-bomb, Gods are mysterious and we're going to be pushing ourselves hunting a dragon."

She raises an eyebrow, "And trust no one but ourselves. Dragon's can even command nature spirits, so if you see a naked Nymph in the woods don't run after her. It's likely she'll cut your balls off and slit your throat."

Ah, that's what he missed. Good thing he's _loyal _to his wife and not some horndog. Samuel feels an intense scratching in his chest, causing him to cough violently a few times into his hand. He wipes it off on his jacket and goes back to looking into the fire. It's just a cough, probably the flu or something, nothing to worry about.

* * *

"**I shall await you on the sixth day. Diomedes will take time to gather a horde and march on the temple, and in the meantime I shall join his side until the final moment when we strike back."**

Artemis nods, "Good. We shall hunt down the more dangerous allies you told me of then ambush them at my temple. My guardians lie in hiding, and he shall unsuspectingly walk into a trap. Return to your brother, we shall see you in six days time, Valiona, and remember, you cannot reveal yourself until the final moments."

Valiona snorts in agreement and pumps her wings, lifting herself off the ground and flying off in the direction of the rising sun. Samuel watches the shadow fly away in the distance, admiring just how cool it is to watch a _freaking dragon_ flying around.

Damn, video games look like shit compared to seeing the real thing in real life! He turns back to close up his tent, but it's already gone. He rolls his eyes at himself as he remembers that Artemis just magics them into existence, much to his annoyance. Making a tent and dismantling it by hand was one of his favorite parts of camping when he was young, but he understands they're on a time limit.

Six days to kill a shit ton of super dangerous monsters all the way across the country. Good thing the potion he got from The Lady of the Lake maximized his stamina, he doesn't feel exhausted or even tired at all! That, and it seems a side effect is numbed pain. When his ribs were cracked by Diomedes, he didn't really feel pain from it, not the kind you should anyway. He was certainly tired, but that was more from the effects of having a broken body.

Incredible pain tolerance and a nearly limitless supply of energy, that's the best blessing ever!

"We leave immediately," Artemis commands, "Our first hunt lives some hundred miles north."

"What are we killing?" Abigail asks, likely so that the two far weaker companions know what they're dealing with exactly.

"The Cerastes." Artemis says finitely. Samuel looks at her with a perplexed expression, "A Cerastes? Sure, they're dangerous, but not that bad considering. What's so special about this one?"

"It's not 'a cerastes' it's _the _Cerastes," She says, "As in the first one. The largest and most dangerous one. Fast as an arrow and as flexible as the wind. Be prepared for anything, all parts of its body are weapons."

Samuel nods and takes off with Artemis and Abigail as soon as they do. Once again he's thankful for the potion, the most he feels from racing through the forest as quick as a deer is sheer boredom from the persisting silence.

Abigail and Artemis are really similar even if he can tell there's a tension that exists between them. Maybe he'll ask about it when Artemis isn't around, at least Abigail isn't the god who goes around throwing curses at people if they simply ask something personal.

Maybe… he wonders if Abigail knows anything about his mom? As much as he hates it, Samson and Abigail have interacted with her more often than she has with him.

He chokes the nasty emotions back, he's not a child and he's not going to push his feelings onto someone else! He used to do that to Hylla and it's… it's not fair. She deserved better than that, and he promised he'd try and be a better person for her.

"Hey Abigail, you've met my mom, right? Anything you want to say on that?"

She looks at him over her shoulder with a funny expression, "What's that mean?"

He sighs, "That came out wrong. I meant like any stories? Comments on her personality? I've met her a few times, but surely she's not so… eccentric with just me?"

Artemis full on snorts, and Abigail chuckles to herself, "Eccentric is the nice way of putting it. Eris is full on crazy, and not just in the mental state either. You should see how she gets with Ares when they hang out. He looses his clothes, she looses hers and they run around drunk off their ass with Dionysus swinging spears and swords around. It's really funny if they're not chasing after you. I heard one time they stabbed Poseidon in the ass with a spear."

They both turn to Artemis who sighs when she can practically feel they're expectant gaze, "She's right. They did do that. Many times. Poseidon complains to Zeus about it but Dad just laughs and lets them get away with it. According to father, 'A spear in the ass is what the old fisherman needs'. I couldn't tell if it was an intentional joke or not."

Samuel stifles a laugh. Even if the image of his mom running around naked with asshole-he means Ares, and dickbag- he means Dionysus, it's still super hilarious. That's something straight out of a fraternity party story, only more weapons are involved.

"Eris is, as my brother says, the life of the party. She's quite popular on Olympus, even if she's born from darkness."

"Wait, what does that mean?" Samuel asks, a little off put by the casual creepy language.

"The lineage of gods originates from several sources. The Olympians and our offspring come from the Titans who came from Ouranos, the sky or the heavens. We're born from the 'light' if you will. Eris comes from the linage of deities born from Nyx, the night, if you will. We all come from the same source in the end but differ in expression thanks to the Primordial's influences. No matter what anyone says, there _is _a difference between your kind and most of those who train at Camp Half Blood. She is a war goddess like Ares, causing discord and war simply for the blood in it. You were much the same, if you remember."

He does, oh yes, he does. Becoming King of the Gargareans was one of the craziest, most awesome things he's ever done, but his short time as ruler wasn't the best, he admits that fully. He killed many of them personally and led even more to their deaths during his hunt for the Gigantes. It was a bloody time, a time he's not exactly proud of. It's why he handed kingship over to Amos, his friend and compatriot who is far more deserving of leadership than he.

Amos can see the bigger picture in things, he shrewd, calculating and overly cautious. The perfect thing a warrior kingdom straight out of Sparta needs if they're going to last long in the world of monsters, Gods and vengeful psychopaths.

Looking back on it, he really embodied the darkest side of Eris back then. He's glad he managed to snap himself out of it, and once again he has to thank Hylla for it.

Without her, well, he really wouldn't have Humanity would he?

"Your power is your greatest curse," Artemis warns, "As pleasant as she is never forget; your mother cause death, far more than any god, even Ares. The same darkness lives within you, waiting to be unleashed. You exist as a choice, just as your blood is. Live in the deep, abyss, or live like a mortal. Both sides call to you. It is why father is so wary of your kind."

She turns back to running, leaving Samuel to stew silently by himself. As harsh as the words are, Samuel has already learned his lesson. He chose a life with Hylla long ago, and he's sticking to it. As intoxicating as it is to let his dark emotions go… he's _happy _with Hylla, and that's all he wants for the rest of his life.

He made a promise, and a Strife never goes back on their word!


	26. Wacky Waving Tube Serpent

**A/N: Hey guys, got a chapter here for you guys. Not sure when the next upload will be since I'm going in for a seven day stretch at work and then immediately flying out for my holiday vacation with my parents. I might be uploading a chapter during my vacation, but it depends on if I have spare time or not. Either way, I'd like to wish all who celebrate a wonderful time over the Holidays, and I hope everyone has a great time with their families.**

* * *

"I spy with my little eye, something red."

"Is it your blood on the ground after I castrate you?"

"No, it's a cardinal. The bird."

"No, I'm pretty certain it's your blood."

Samuel gulps and tugs on his color nervously. Artemis turns back to the swampy clearing ahead of them. They're all ducked low in the bushes and behind tree, scouting out the wet, stinky marsh the Cerastes is hiding in. According to Artemis, usually lesser cerastes are found in soft sand since they're not strong enough to travel through soil, but their progenitor _The _Cerastes is far larger and stronger by many magnitudes. It can travel through swampy and marshy soil with ease, giving it the advantage of superior movement.

That's a problem. A mighty big one at that. Those who can outmaneuver their enemies have the greatest chance of victory. Obviously the Cerastes' is at the disadvantage in terms of weaponry, but it can move underground and is more flexible than an eel.

This will be a fight of endurance, skill, and just a dash of luck.

"What's the plan?" Samuel asks. Artemis doesn't turn to look at him, her gaze firmly fixed on the marsh.

"We wait for nightfall. It's too smart to attack in the day."

Samuel sighs despondently. He's already gotten used to bullshit with Artemis, so it doesn't surprise him at all that they're going to fight a horrible monster literally at the worst time possible.

"Are we trying to get him killed?" Abigail says dryly, "Or are we making this as hard as possible?"

Artemis levels her a flat look, but she just stares back blankly. The goddess looks up at the sky, judging the time to be still towards the middle of the day. She scowls when thinking of the potential for wasted time.

Quickly she comes to a decision and turns to her pseudo-hunters, "I must leave."

Samuel instantly blanches, sputtering a few formless words before being cut off, "We're running on a limited timeline. There's still more monsters to kill in only a few days. You two shall handle the Cerastes and, while I shall leave to kill a nearby nest. Come midnight tonight I will return to collect you, then we shall move on."

Abigail groans and leans back against a tree, clearly upset with the current plan. Samuel finds himself with the same feeling on things. It's stupid but makes sense at least. Splitting up can get crazy dangerous when you're lost somewhere in the wilderness with who knows what kinds of monsters running around.

"And what if you don't come back?"

Artemis looks Abigail dead in the eyes, "You doubt my word?"

"No. I know things never go as planned, and if you're held up, called on another hunt or stuck chasing something across the country _we-"_ She motions to Samuel and herself, "-need to know where to go next. We can't just sit around in the woods for days on end waiting for you. We need more of a plan then waiting for a couple hours."

If looks could kill, then the cold, stony gaze in Artemis' eyes would've sent Abigail to Tartarus forever ago. For being the one who told him not to piss her off, she's been snappier with her than he was. There's something more going on than what he knows, but what ever it is it better not get in the way of this Trial.

'A fault in the integrity of a unit leads to its downfall.' It took him years to learn this lesson, but it came at the cost of many people's lives, even those close to him.

"I will leave nymphs to guide you should we split. Follow them and they will take you to my temple's location. I am gone, I will be back by midnight or we shall meet at my temple later."

* * *

Samuel leans back against a tree and looks up at the sky. Slowly the gentle orange of day starts turning blue as the sun heads for the horizon. Soon enough, night will be upon them, followed by a crazy snake monster not long after.

Artemis left them not long after she said she would, disappearing into the forest to hunt other monsters and make it easier for them once the final attack on her temple begins. She gave her reason for leaving as covering more ground, which makes sense. She is _far _faster than them and can cover more ground and kill much more when she isn't dampening her strength with weaker companions around.

Still, it is incredibly risky since she'll be without backup and even a goddess can be undone by trickery. Hell, it happened before when she was captured by Kronos's forces and made to hold the sky for Atlas. He's sure she'll be fine, especially with that wound to her pride still relatively fresh.

No, what he's worried about is trekking across the country without proper power keeping him safe. No Artemis incase they run into an uber-beast, no rifle to let him fight at his maximum capability, only Samson sort of most of the time.

Though, he will admit that Samson and his other half, Abigail, are powerful even if they're weak for a god. He'll take their help over nothing, at the very least.

He glances back up at the sky and sees it mostly midnight blue. Stars twinkle in the heavens, insects chirp and things splash around in the marsh waters. Every so often he feels tiny tremors in the ground, islands of moss in the water shift and move around.

Looks like the snake is starting to wake up.

He glances at Abigail who's staring intently at the water. Well, it's been a boring ass couple of hours waiting for the snake, might as well pass the time a bit more with a question that's been bugging him.

"Yo." Abigail looks at him for a second before turning her gaze back to the water. Samuel sighs, he's had to deal with stubborn Amazons before, and his 'companion' is a lot like them.

"What?"

"What's with you and Artemis? You were her lieutenant before your resurrection or whatever, so I'd figured you'd be best buddies or whatever."

"Heading straight for the hard questions, aren't you?"

Samuel nods. Abigail sighs. Nothing like that for bonding.

"She wasn't always as nice as she is now. Artemis has killed plenty of innocent people in my service to her, it got too much so I left but died because of a betrayal from one of my fellow sisters. Either way, I don't hold too much respect for her or her Hunters either. Both are full of too much pride, contradict their teachings and are unnecessarily cruel. I'm not fond of either anymore."

Samuel raises an eyebrow, but nods in agreement regardless. He can understand her view, Artemis and her Hunters have a… _reputation _that isn't always positive.

"Understandable. I was curious since it was putting me at risk?"

Abigail turns to him, ger expression just the tiniest bit shocked, "I get you're immortal and don't understand life anymore, I just don't like that it's probably going to come at the cost of my own."

She turns away from him, just a little disturbed by his words. Samuel gets it's pretty dickish, but someone has to tell her to be mindful of life. She may be a deity, but he's not letting that be an excuse for his life on the line.

"I… never realized how I've changed. Have I really been so careless…? I see… Thank you, Samuel. A little humility can never be lost on anyone."

"Yeah. Whatever. Look, just be mindful. I've only got one life, and in Hylla's line of work only one wife. Enough of that, it's night and that snake should be waking up anytime soon."

She meets his eyes for a flash of a second, and from the twinkling gleam he can tell she's full of thought and emotion, even if her expression is like a brick wall.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

The water swirls and churns, something angry slithers beneath the dirt and water. Abigail watches tensely as it seems the whole clearing swirls. Just how big is this beast?!

"_I give it a good hundred feet plus, give or take a yard or two. Good thing we have our spear, snakes fall in the same category of dragons and are just as vulnerable to magic."_

"_Oh, you're back, Samson?"_

"_Don't sound so disappointed. We get enough of that from Samuel."_

She supposes he's right. But enough of that, they need a plan to fight this thing. Samuel was right when he said they've not been worried enough about life now that they don't have to worry about dying. They need a proper plan for taking down this thing effectively. It's time to stop playing around and take care of business, like proper professionals.

"Samuel," She calls out to him, "We need a plan. We can't just wing it."

"I agree. What do we know about it? Fire, acid, super strength?"

She pauses for a moment, "It's super maneuverable and fast. No special attacks or anything, just incredible means of movement."

"Then we have to somehow corral it into your spear. That thing works on snakes too, right? A thrusting weapon is going to do a better job killing it than a sword."

"How are we going to move it around, then?" She questions, "It's gotta be over a hundred feet easily. How do we convince it?"

Samuel summons Razor from his ring finger. The blue, magic fire dances silently along the length of the blade, as mesmerizing as Abigail and Samson always remembered.

"_That just might work. Everything hates fire, even monsters. Thankfully snakes don't have the same resistances as dragons do."_

"That should just do it. You corral it, I go for the head."

The splashing suddenly grows more fierce. Something low hisses under the water as it sloshes and churns. Quickly a head emerges from beneath an island of moss, and in the shadows a red, silted eye opens and glows in the dark.

"Get ready," Samuel yells, swinging the sword in a big arc, throwing a wave of blue fire directly towards the serpent. Quick like an arrow it ducks under the fire, winds up and launches its head directly towards Samuel.

Before it can gulp him up, Abigail quickly jabs it in the snout and sends a current of electricity right into its flesh. The beast quickly recoils away in pain, thrashing and slashing in the water before diving directly into the water and disappearing into the mud.

They watch as the ground shifts and rumbles, a bulge in the ground quickly rushing away towards a different area of the bog.

"Ugh," Samuel groans, "It's running!"

"We need to chase after it, maybe we can rush it into hard ground?!"

The two take off after the quickly moving bulge in the ground. It zips around with lightning speed, but as Samuel suspected it's moving _from them. _Abigail breaks off from Samuel and runs at the serpent from a different angle, working with Samuel to try and move the snake outside of the wet marshes.

"There!" Samuel yells, pointing towards an area growing only sparsely with the tips of rocks pointing out slightly from the weak grass. Abigail nods and quickens her pace, both of them running alongside the underground serpent. As planned, the serpent barrels straight forward, and with a ferocious _crash _the snake drives directly into a boulder, shattering it underground and quickly coming to a halt.

Abigail and Samuel ready themselves as the ground starts vibrating like a small seismic event. A split in the ground forms, and in a matter of moments the long body of the serpent burst out, its snout caved in a good foot, teeth missing and blood flying from its mouth. The beast hisses in roaring pain, writhing and throwing its body around like a wacky waving inflatable tube man.

Samuel swings the sword and throws the enchanted fire towards the serpent, in an instant the mossy-green scales sing and burn to a crisp along a wide length of the body. Reacting to the sudden pain, the beast flails towards Samuel, hoping to smack him with its body.

Quickly he darts back, just barely dodging the serpent's body but still being hit by the wind blast from the sheer speed of it. As he is thrown back by the wind, Samuel slashes the air with his sword and sends another wave of fire at the snake.

It manages to snap its body away from the fire, but by winding back so far it puts itself in range of Abigail who makes liberal use of the opportunity to makes several slashes along the length of its body. Blood goes flying from the wounds, followed by more as the wounds are opened by the constriction of the muscles.

As the legend tell, no bones can be seen, meaning the thing is just one massive muscle save for the skull.

The beast lets loose a guttural scream. It constricts in pain, only furthering the wounds and yanks the rest of its body from the ground like some kind of fucked-up noodle. It rises high into the air and looms down over Abigail. Its eyes gleam with a clear manic rage, killing intent almost leaking from it like its blood.

"Uh, Samuel?!"

The beast hisses in pain again as more fire burns along the same burnt flesh Samuel hit from before. The scales disintegrate into ash, the fire burning right through into the soft flesh beneath. In an instant the Cerastes whips its tail at Samuel who quickly jumps over it, but in the last second it curls around his body and squeezes.

He gasps in pain from the constriction, but the serpent decides squeezing him to death isn't apart of the plan and holds him high into the air above its mouth. The maw opens wide, revealing chipped and damaged teeth inside of a bloodied mouth.

The monster drops him and he starts falling right for the opening, but as he falls the creature suddenly recoils, constricting its body and throwing its head back to reveal its neck. He barely spots Abigail stabbing it with her spear, light visible from the lightning being poured into the beast's body from the spear.

He grins and twists his sword in his hands and plunges it straight down, aiming directly for the center of the 'neck'. Blade slices quickly into flesh, momentum helping him pierce the weak scales on the underbelly and sliding down the length of the body.

Samuel screams from the intense pressure squeezing his arms, thankfully the don't explode as he slides down the belly of the snake, gutting it the entire way down until he crashes finally into the hard dirt. The air is knocked straight from his lungs and his vision blur. Only through sheer willpower is he able to force himself to roll away just before the serpent crashes into the ground where he just was.

It takes a moment, but he manages to regain his breath just as his vision goes back to normal. Shimmering in the twinkling moonlight, mountains of golden dust sparkles before him. An oddly beautiful sight compared to the creature it came from.

He groans and plops himself down on the dirt, breathing heavily a few times as his arms burn like they're on fire. He winces from a sharp pain in his chest but ignores it to look at Abigail as she approaches.

"Hey. How… are you doing?"

Samuel winces and coughs up a small amount of blood, "Oh, you know, just hanging around."

"Cool." She takes a seat on the dirt and looks at the mountain of dust, "Think there's a trophy or something in there?"

He looks at the piles of dust, but grimaces, "Eh. It'll take too long to dig through it. I just want to rest."

She nods and looks up at the moon, silence befalling them for several long minutes, "…You're pretty cool, you know that?"

"…Yeah. Maybe… you're alright too."


	27. Samuel's Dk is on Fire

**A/N: And I'm back! I hope everyone's holidays were wonderful, I hope everyone's 2019 was wonderful, and I hope everyone's New Years was able to be remembered. Sorry I took such a long time getting this chapter out, vacation with my family was busy and I went immediately back to my job which was busy as hell getting ready for the New Years. But that's all behind me now, and I have time to start up with the story again. Anyways, thank you for your patience.**

* * *

Demigods almost never have dreams about something good. Ninety percent of the time it's some prophecy about doom, death and the inescapable current of time and fate. A bunch of bullshit if you ask Samuel! Not that he doesn't believe them, mind you, because he totally does. He just thinks they're shit because they always end with a monster or something looking at you while you can't move and lunging at you just to give you a fright before you wake up.

It's annoying as hell! One time he had a dream of a dog peeing on a fire hydrant before turning around and jumping at him. Though there is a small chance that dream happened because he got super drunk on his honeymoon with Hylla. Who knows.

Either way, the dream he's having now is clearly not a drunk dream, mostly because he's in a cave somewhere hiding behind a rock while a bunch of fucking cultist weirdos prostrate before a giant hole in the ground and chant in some language that somehow makes his brain start to hurt.

He can see the cultists in better lighting now, even the strange, dancing runes on their dark cloaks. Samuel watches carefully as one of the cultists takes a dagger to his wrist and slices it carefully, dripping his blood into the abyss before handing it off to the next one so they can do the same. Each cultists that sacrifices their blood somehow increases the pressure in the room, it becoming so great that along side their chanting he starts feeling faint from the intense migraine attacking his brain.

Samuel shakes his head and keeps watching the ritual carefully, he just needs to push through to see if he can get any kind of useful information before he wakes up.

The last cultist drips his blood into the hole and quickly shuffles away. All stand in silence for nearly a minute before red, misty wafts of smoke gently rise from the pit they were sacrificing blood into. The center-most cultist drops to his knees and carefully crawls towards the hole and twists his head so his ear and head just barely peek out over the edge.

Faint whispers like ghosts touch Samuel's ears. The words are in the same language as the cultists, but something is different. These words feel... sweet, somehow, like they're gently trying to lull him to sleep. His eyelids slowly start to close, when in the back of his mind he hears a frightened shout.

_Samuel!_

Instantly his eyes blast open, his heart pounding and his brain feeling like it's on fire. What was that?! It felt like his very will to be was slipping away! The once sweet words are now harsh, full of malice and hate. He cups his hands to his ears and squeezes tightly, desperately trying to save himself from the awful, crawling words. He looks up and sees one of the cultists now standing over him, the ceremonial dagger held high in his hand.

Samuel rolls his eyes as he knows what's going to happen just as the man brings his knife down. Before the dream fades, Samuel quickly memorizes the shape and details of the dagger just in time as he feels the biting sting of the cold blade slide effortlessly into his neck.

000

Abigail was having a fairly nice morning cooking eggs with her spear before Samuel suddenly jumps out of his bead with a shout and starts tearing into his clothes mumbling something or the other. She watches carefully as he tears a small notepad and pen from an interior pocket and quickly doodles something in it. In a flash he's in front of her, shoving a drawing in her face.

"Do you know what this is?!" He shout-questions. Gently she takes the paper and examines the knife drawn on it. The knife is simple, basically just a pointed blade with a handle that curves in slightly as a grip. No guard, no pommel or any kind of markings. Ironically this makes it easier for her to identify it, simple daggers like this were common in the middle east in ancient times.

"This is a Babylonian dagger, back when they were around." She hands the paper back to Samuel who sighs dramatically in relief. Abigail goes back to cooking eggs on her spear tip, gently using the blade's electricity to cook them. Samuel goes to say something but pauses when he sees the eggs before shaking his head and continuing.

"Listen! I had a demigod dream-"

"Did something attack you and wake you up?"

"Yes, now shut up and listen! The cult or whatever was in a cave somewhere sacrificing their blood to this hole, and the hole tried to brainwash me but it didn't work, and the head guy I think had-" He points at the drawing, "-this in his hand when he stabbed me!"

"Okay..." She says slowly, "What does that mean, then?"

Samuel almost visibly deflates and sits himself down on a rock, "Yeah, I don't know."

He looks up at the sky and sees the morning sun starting to peek out over the horizon, "So, she didn't come back?"

"Nope."

"Alright cool," More silence, "What do we do, then?"

Someone gently clears their throat behind them. Samuel and Abigail turn around and see a young girl with a dress made of Ivy leaves standing with her hands behind her back. She looks around anxiously and scratches her arm quickly before shoving it back behind her again. A Nymph, easy to guess, and an incredibly anxious one at that. Kinda cute too.

She clears her throat and extends a hand for Samuel to shake. He raises an eyebrow but stands and gives her a light handshake. Quick as a flash she takes her hand away and looks everywhere but his eyes.

"My Lady wants you to follow me to her temple. We must make haste, her temple is in great peril and time is short."

Samuel turns to Abigail who shrugs and flicks her eggs somewhere into a bush, "What are we looking at, then? Any idea on what we're facing against, and what we have to stop them?"

The Nymph freezes in place, an empty glaze covering her eyes. Samuel snaps a few times in her face, and after a moment she shakes herself from her daze and spins around and starts marching into the forest.

"Follow me when you're ready."

Abigail and Samuel look at one another, the Son of Eris pointing at the odd Nymph with a bewildered expression on his face. Abigail just shrugs with an equally perplexed expression. Samuel just shakes his head and moves off to a large bush.

"I've gotta pee right quick."

The Nymph peeks at Samuel quickly before whipping her head to look back into the forest. Hoping to diffuse the strangely tense situation, Abigail comes to the Nymph's side, making her flinch for a fraction of a second. Taking note, Abigail takes a large step to the side to the relief of the shady nature spirit.

"So... gotta name?"

"...Ivy." Abigail nods. More silence. She sighs seeing how Ivy isn't going to start a conversation easily, "No surname? There's more than one type of Ivy, like poison...Ivy..."

"AAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!"

Slowly the two turn around as they hear Samuel's scream of agony. Abigail sighs and turns to Ivy, "...Why did you shake his hand?"

Ivy flushes in embarrassment and turns away, hiding her face under her bangs, "...I thought it was polite."

000

Samuel crosses his arms angrily and glares up into the sky as he's dragged across the forest on a makeshift sled. Abigail glances at him over her shoulder and sighs before turning back to following _Poison _Ivy while dragging Samuel on a sled.

"C'mon, you can't be _that _mad at her."

"Like hell I can't! I touched my _dick _with a poison ivy filled hand! Do you know how much this sucks right now?!"

"Well, I'm a girl, so no."

"Exactly! So shut up and let me brood, dammit!"

Abigail rolls her eyes and continues marching forward, "Ivy, how long until we get to the temple?"

"Only a matter of moments," She says softly, "My Lady is using her powers to send us faster through the forest. If you look around you can see we're in a different biome."

Samuel looks around and sees the trees are a completely different breed than from where they were before, Pine trees instead of oak and birch. Even the air is different, far colder and sharper. How did he not realize the clear change? Well, he fell in a river next to a city one time and was washed up on shore next to Camp Half Blood thanks to Demeter, so maybe that kind of stuff just messes with perception, who knows?

Ivy pushes brush apart and gestures for Abigail to enter. She enters through the opening and is taken away by the beauty of the ruins before her. Marble columns, no less than a hundred still standing, sparkle in the rising sunlight, grass and vines grow around them with bright purple flowers sprouting between the cracks in the stone. The Parthenon-looking temple extends back several hundred feet, over four hundred if Abigail were to guess and is half that wide. It stands at least three stories high, and even though many parts of the temple have eroded or fallen apart the vines wrapping around the columns also seem to wrap around much of the structure itself, seemingly holding the entire thing together for the most part.

Around the temple are mostly intact statues and fountains, each carved in Artemis' image to fine detail with faint sparkling gold still visible despite the wear of time. Even though the temple itself will never hold a candle to the beauty of those built on Olympus, the fact that human hands created something so remarkable without modern tools is a testament in of itself, a true work of art.

"Wow... I forgot how beautiful they were... I haven't seen a temple like this for, well, _millenia._"

The Nymph manages a small smile and graciously presents them to the wondrous ruins, "Welcome to the Grand Temple of Artemis, one of the Ancient Wonders of the world and the last great temple on Earth dedicated to My Lady, Artemis."

Samuel whistles appreciatively at the sight, and even though he finds the ruins to be magnificent, he's still conscious of the greater threat looming around them.

"Not that I care about being the asshole here, how are we supposed to defend this place? Even with Artemis it's still a tall order if Diomedes has an army at his command."

The tiny smile on Ivy's lips pulls upwards just a bit, "The temple was never unguarded. Great Hunters live in the walls, the last of Artemis's true Priestesses. We must meet with them, with their help we can save the temple just yet. Just be careful, they an I don't quite have a, ah, _good _relationship."

"The hell does that mean?" Samuel's question is answered by an arrow embedding itself in a tree right next to Ivy's head. She yelps and jumps behind the tree, Abigail and Samuel quickly doing the same much to Samuel's chagrin.

"Ah! Fuck! Oh my gods it hurts to run! My dick is on _fire!_"

"Wrong thing to say _here _specifically," Ivy shouts, "The Hunters must think we're plunderers! Also, you're a man, and these women are _really _old school!"

"Then the fuck are we supposed to do?!"

"Surrender."

Instantly everyone spins around at the mysterious voice, weapons ready to attack but it's meaningless, dozens of spear are held to their throat with just as many arrows strung and ready to fire in a split second. Two dozen women each fierce and determined hold them at a stand still. Their arms are tattooed with neolithic style drawings and their armor is a mix of old colorful Greek Chitons and armor.

Their entire presence reminds Samuel of the Amazons, only the old versions you'd hear in the myths about them. He has a feeling that maybe these _are _Amazons, but the old fashioned ones and probably the last remnants of the first tribe of them.

He has to admit, the eerie similarities to Hylla really does something for him.

The lead Hunter tips her spear down and points it directly at Samuel's crotch. He gulps and puts his hands in the air to surrender, hoping his little fella will make it through this just fine.

"You shame us by being here, Ivy," The fiercest Hunter says, her spear still ready to castrate Samuel, "But now you bring an admittedly handsome boy here to tempt us?! You'll get the Bronze Bull for this, you treacherous Nymph!"

"Wait, WAIT!" Abigail yells, shocking even Samuel as he's never heard so much emotion from her before, "Artemis sent _us _here to save the temple! We're about to be attacked by a dragon and a horde of monsters! We don't have time to be pissy about any of this!"

The leader glances at Abigail before turning her Medusa-like gaze to Ivy who visibly shrinks under the intensity. Whatever she sees in her eyes convinces the leader somehow, and as she lowers her weapon so too does the rest of the hunters. Samuel sighs in relief, and Abigail helps him to his feet where he has a brief stare off with the scary hunter before she turns to Abigail with the faintest hint of a bow.

"Welcome, lady Avigail, it's nice to see you again."

"Arethusa... it's been a while." Before she can do anything, Arethusa quickly snags Abigail into a bone-crushing hug. She wipes a faint tear from her eye and gestures for everyone to follow her into the temple.

As the group leaves, Samuel quickly leans over and whispers to Abigail, "You know her?"

Her expression is unreadable, but Samuel gets the feeling that there's some kind of bad or unpleasant history around them, "...We were hunters together, years ago. She was around when I was betrayed by my old friend."


	28. Paint the Temple Red

**A/N: Hey all, finally finding myself with a day off after like a week straight at work, and just in time since my store is going into a remodel and I'll be shuffled around to some other section for the better part of six weeks beginning in February. Oh well, I've got a good number of days off this week so I'll be getting some good chapters out for everyone. Hopefully this makes up for the sporadic updates. Probs not, but oh well, life and garbage like that. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter today, we're finally ending this trial and moving onto the next one.**

* * *

_"So, you've got friends?"_

_Shut the fuck up, _Abigail says internally to her other half, _I know people._

_"Yeah, everyone I know and met for you. Seriously, you've got to get out more often."_

Easy for him to say. Abigail is bound to only one body, the same as Samson, and he's the one in control most often. Not that there's a problem with that, she lived and died years ago, to be replaced by Samson in her new life and likely by the will of the Fates be brought back as a pseudo-companion for her newest reincarnation.

It's some complicated shit.

_If you could hurry your lazy butt up and figure out how to split our essence then this wouldn't be a problem._

_"Hey now!" _Samson squawks indignantly, _"Managing divine essence is a tricky art. I got lucky making Oculus, Ram and Juggernaut! This is brand new waters, though lucky for us surprisingly familiar the more I look into it."_

Abigail tilts her head to the side and waits for Samson to continue, _"I've become a surprising authority on manipulating divine essence over the years, and the information I gleamed from Mother's true form ties it all in a neat bow. I wager most gods took decades to master their powers, but with what I garnered from the 'incident', I say we can get it down in less than a year."_

_Sounds impressive._

_"It is, you troglodyte! Do you know what this means?! The kind of strides we can make together with this knowledge alone! Think about it. Applying principles of divinity to everyday mortals could send the whole world into a Golden Age not seen since the Titans ruled."_

_Yeah, and think about what would happen if you did. Samson, you died when you looked at Athena's true form. By her hand no less. Zeus, Jupiter, any other pantheon wouldn't stand for humanity suddenly becoming godlike, and for good reason. You can't trust humans with power, even now. Tell me you honestly believe a worldwide war isn't brewing, and that nuclear holocaust isn't a possibility in the future._

_"..."_

_Your silence is telling._

She hears Samson sigh in her head and start moving around. She even hears what sounds like him pouring tea and sitting back in a comfy chair of some kind. What the hell has he been doing inside of their head all this time? Did he seriously build a house while he was gone?

_"I did, and when we switch back after this you'll be able to see it too. Shit, dropped my tea."_

Abigail ignores the sharp pain in her forehead to silently urge Samson to continue his thoughts on the matter.

_"I guess... yeah, you're right. I've still got the bad habit of trying to make everything better for everyone without thinking of the consequences. Kind of like a mad scientist, now that I think about it."_

_Okay, Frankenstein, keep it in your pants. Just keep working on the essence splitting. Two of us fighting together is far more effective than one at a time._

_"Preach Queen."_

* * *

Arethusa considers herself a woman of high standards. Even if she's only a lowly Neried given status by Artemis she's proud and damn all who tried to tear her down. How she came into Artemis' service is a story she's not fond of. Damn that river god, Alpheus! He was so madly in love with Artemis that he tried taking it out on her. Lucky she was that Artemis was there to save her. Though really she owes it all to Avigail, the wonderful woman was the one who spotted Alpheus and her and alerted Artemis who swooped in like an angel of death and kicked that bastard of a god into the deepest depths of his river and then some.

The wretched god didn't show his face for years after that, and never got within ten kilometers of anyone related to the hunt after.

Good. Let him rot in his little river. Arethusa hasn't been bothered by the thought of him for years. No, her woes now lie with the sudden arrival of Avigail, and the resurgence of unwelcome feelings she's been burying for years.

_She's a Hunter, dammit! Why do I feel like this, even after all this time?!_

Aphrodite would be gushing all over this situation if she knew. A Hunter who loves another fellow hunter, even after her death and subsequent resurrection. She can't let anyone find out! If this somehow found its way to Artemis, well, she won't let it get there. The punishment for lusting after a fellow Hunter is nothing short of hell on Earth.

So, like she's done for millennia, she'll push her feelings deep into the recesses of her heart. Surely nothing will happen? Right? Ah fuck, this is going to end horribly.

* * *

"So... what do you girls do for fun around here?"

The twenty odd Hunters glare in response. A few make hand signals showing the many creative ways they'd like to kill him. Thankfully Ivy is here, though she's being shunned just as hard as he is. Surprising, considering that she's acquainted with the Amazonian-esque Hunters in some way.

"Normally, we'd-" Ivy's cut off by a rock smacking her dead center in the forehead and knocking her off her stone bench. Samuel sighs silently and rolls his eyes, glancing at the giggling gaggle of warriors with just a hint of disdain visible in his blood-red eyes. He helps Ivy back onto her seat (using his sleeves rather than his skin as he doesn't want a repeat of _that incident _to happen again).

Her forehead is scratched a nasty red with faint speckling of blood leaking from the damaged skin. He tsks distastefully and turns to glare at the attackers.

"Hey, there's no reason for that!"

A particularly large Hunter sneers at Samuel and slowly walks over to the cowering Ivy, her shadow rising high above the seemingly shrinking nymph. Samuel barely comes to her chin in height, the Son of Eris sizing up the monster without so much of a speck of fear.

Ivy cowers, face hidden behind her hand, but peeking through her fingers she can see Samuel standing unafraid against her torment. For the longest time she thought of the whole 'demigod heroes' thing as not really anything to bother with, but looking at him now, she can see why even gods hold demigods in some respect.

Samuel's a hero, as violent as his reputation is, he's a bloody hero. Quite literally, too.

She can't help but feel in awe. His presence becoming even more noteworthy with every second that passes as he stares down with the large warrior.

The seconds pass like hours, and after an eternity of a few moments the mountain bellows out a deep laugh and turns back to her herd of women with a slightly disturbing smile on her face. She waves back at Samuel and calls out to him as she leaves, back still turned but voice still strong.

"You're alright, kid! Got a warriors spirit! Lets head out, ladies, we need to shore up our defenses."

The group follows after the giant Hunter, each sending Samuel a passing glance before departing without a single word. Some shoot Ivy nasty glares, but she doesn't notice, only uncovering her face once the Hunters are gone from earshot.

"Why do they treat you like that?"

Ivy glances at Samuel who gives her a questioning look.

"I'm only curious. Artemis trusts you to lead us here, yet her followers hate you like you're a man. What's the deal?"

She sighs and slumps down in her seat, "I might as well be filthy as a man!"

"Sitting right here."

Ivy ignores him, continuing her self-degrading rant, "I was never a Hunter, but I tended to the grounds. The local Nymph caring for the plants and vines. Artemis never bound me to a law of chastity, and when I came across a handsome man, well, a girl has her needs, you know? We did it, we got caught and they killed the poor man in front of me and ran me out. Artemis never punished me, but she obviously never said anything to her Hunters either. I guess she was shaming me, which I suppose is better than being turned into an animal and flayed alive. Gods, I was such an idiot!"

Samuel rolls his eyes and fishes a small flask from his jacket, taking a good swing from it before capping and stowing it away. He's already becoming the drunk uncle. Dammit.

"Listen, I'm not good at this kind of shit, but you're not bound to a law, so what you do with yourself is your business, not theirs, got it? Honestly, if I were you I'd pack up camp and go somewhere else. Maybe ask Abigail. I've heard she's got a forest hidden somewhere with a bunch of psycho ass Nymphs running around. Might try your luck there."

She nods and sits silently next to Samuel. He sighs feeling awkwardness in the air and picks his rear off the bench and points his thumb towards the entrance of the temple.

"I'm gonna... uh... see if I can figure out what the battle plan is."

* * *

Abigail glances over and sees Samuel quickly shuffling into the temple. She sighs internally in relief as he nearly books it to Arethusa and herself, glad that someone not so obviously awkward is here to break the tension in the room. He comes up to the table and looks down at the map of the temple and the immediate surrounding forest.

"What's our plan?"

He's met by a scoff from the former Hunter, "Nothing. No wards. No hidden army to call for aid. Only two dozen elite Hunters and a crumbling ruin for cover."

"Lady Artemis will save us," Arethusa interjects, "You should know, lady Avigail, never to underestimate our lady. Just her alone will deter any would be attackers."

"Then you're an idiot."

Arethusa turns to Samuel, face set like a stone despite the fury in her deep blue eyes.

"Diomedes is an arrogant bastard with a horde at his side. I have no doubt we'll win, I just don't know if it'll be a Pyrrhic Victory or not. Chances are good we'll lose a lot of people and maybe even the temple itself."

The hunter remains quiet, but even in her silence Samuel and Abigail can feel her worry. And for good reason. Even with Valiona at their side it's not a given victory will be assured. They can only hope Artemis finishes her solo hunt of the stronger monsters so only the weak ones are left to attack the temple. Samuel would prefer none at all, but he'd take a horde of weaker enemies over a force of elite fighters any day.

"Still, we have nothing to fear. With Artemis on our side, nothing can go wrong."

Samuel and Abigail wince, both cursing to themselves and turning to the door like they're waiting for someone.

"...What are you doing?"

"Someone's going to run in any second and say something like our doom is at hand or something."

Arethusa rolls her eyes, "Surely you're not so paranoid as to believe-"

"ARETHUSA! ENEMIES HAVE BEEN SIGHTED APPROACHING!"

Arethusa blinks blankly a few times as a Hunter runs in screaming about the scouting party having discovered a horde of monsters approaching from a few miles out. Slowly Samuel turns to stare at her, a single eyebrow raising with a look basically screaming 'I told you so'.

The Nereid pinches the bridge of her nose and inhales sharply, waving her companion away with a silent command to prepare for battle. Abigail sighs and takes the condensed spear from her pocket, twirling it around in her hand and staring with no small amount of sass at her former companion.

"Well, we need a plan now."

* * *

The day slowly passes as but a scant few Hunters barricade entrances, dig trenches and move lumber about to create cover in case of enemy archers. Not that dodging an arrow is of any difficulty to elite Hunters, but with tight quarters and enemies heavily outnumbering them more cover is better than having none at all.

Arethusa is well skilled in the art of battle, having participated in many before, but those were long ago and always with an Olympian goddess by her side. But now? Now she's without a proper goddess for backup and the enemy is knocking on her door. Literally. Samuel's words continue to echo in her mind as the horde of monsters camp out in the trees just within eye shot of the temple. She can almost feel their eyes on the back of neck, hear their hungry pants and smell their foul stench.

Where he hell is Artemis?! According to Avigail, the enemy horde shouldn't have gotten here for another couple days, so why now? Unless... no, they're more clever than she gave them credit for. The dragon sacrificed his stronger monsters to distract Artemis and attack while she was busy handling them.

Move the strongest defender from the temple and destroy it through sheer numbers. Whatever numbers they have its sure to be well over a hundred. And with the dragon on their side the danger of their enemies easily triples at the least.

"Ivy. Step forth."

The shamed Nymph steps forward, surprising Arethusa with the determination burning in her eyes. Good. She'll need it for what she's about to ask.

"You're the only person that knows where Artemis is, and the only one of us that can navigate the forest with natural ease. For the sake of all of our lives, you have to run. Keep running until Artemis hears our call for help, only with her will we survive the day."

Ivy nods, eyes burning with even more passion than before. Arethusa puts a hand on her shoulder (her gloves on purely for the sake of avoiding her poison) and meets Ivy's eyes. An unspoken conversation passes between them, and in her burning orbs Arethusa finds herself respecting Ivy once again. The lack of fear. The undeniable sense of duty. It's likely she runs to her death, and even in the face of that inevitability Ivy is fearless.

She turns around and sprints past Samuel as he tips a bookcase over and covers most of a large hole in the temple. The vines holding the building together grow down and encase the bookshelf, incorporating it into the structure itself and slowly knitting itself into a tight wall that one can barely stick a spear through.

He watches Ivy book it through a back wall in the temple and melt into the forest, almost invisible even to the horde slowly encircling the temple. He shakes his head and starts rolling a barrel to a different hole.

"Think she's going to make it?"

Arethusa doesn't even look at him while she responds, "She must."

"That wasn't an answer."

She quickly spins around, fire in her eyes, "What would you have me do?! We can't call for Artemis because of whatever is blocking magical communication, this is the only way!"

Samuel shrugs his shoulders and pushes the barrel into the waiting vines, "Chances are Artemis is on her way already. I doubt she'd be unaware of the location of this group at all times. More than likely you've just wasted her life."

The Nereid scoffs and marches away to help her comrades on the outside. Samuel leaves her be, instead focusing on shoring up the defenses. He knows all too well the stress of leadership. Even if he doesn't really like her, Arethusa _does _share some similarities with Samuel when he was younger.

Arrogant. Prideful and completely self absorbed. He just hopes she sees the fault in her ways sooner than later. The path he lead is one that ends in tragedy, and she's charging straight down it.

He shakes his head and stares out into the forest one last time before the vines completely cover his view.

Not long now, and the fight will begin.

* * *

Samuel's general plan is a simple one, but it relies on stages which gives the Hunters and herself some leeway with maneuverability. A dozen Hunters including herself man the trenches outside of the temple and draw as man of the monsters as they can into close quarters combat while Samuel and Arethusa command the rest of the hunters inside and use the gaps in the temple walls to pick the enemy off with arrows. When they're eventually forced to retreat inside the sturdiness of the temple stones and the self-mending vines will give them a great advantage and help them last long enough for Artemis to arrive with Valiona as backup.

Dusk slowly forms in the sky, red and black gently riding across the sky. Abigail motions for the Hunters to get down and take cover, as she's sure that as soon as it gets dark enough they'll be attacked.

One more hour passes and as soon as the sun is completely gone from view the rain of arrows begins. Hundreds are loosed upon their position from all angles, the enemy archers probing their position for weak points.

The cover they built holds true, not a single arrow takes a life or even grazes a Hunter. Abigail's night vision makes it easy for her to see the archers hiding in the shadows, and with some coordination from her pointing out their positions manages to get many killed from the Hunter archers. She sees no dragon in the sky and guesses that either Diomedes is still healing from his wounds or is waiting for the Hunters numbers to drop.

Likely a mix of both. With his scales still weak from her spear a well placed arrow would end his life in one shot. She curses the sly dragon and cries out to her sisters-in-arms, "Get ready for the first wave!"

_Fifty are coming from the forest, the archers are backing off!_

Abigail readies her spear an motions for the Hunters to duck down in the trenches again. The ground rumbles as dozens of feet of varying weights stomp across the field with fervor. Cynocephali snarl and bark, saliva dripping from their gnarled maws as mad hunger possesses their minds. A few scattered dracaena join the charge, spears and other crude weapons in their hands as the hiss out orders to the dog-men like they're the scum of the earth.

The Hunters brandish their sleek, silver swords and wait for the signal to attack. Abigail holds a hand up, eyeing the approaching battle group and holding back the Hunter's counterattack.

They toy with their weapons impatiently, and just when the charging monsters are upon them she slams her hand down, and from within the safety of the temple dozens of arrows fly out, each one hitting their mark and taking a monster down with only one shot. A few seconds pass, and the scant dozen Cyocephali that managed to survive the volley are picked off with clean, efficient cuts by the elite warriors.

Abigail has to admit, a couple dozen elite fighters like these women might be able to pull this off by themselves. Of course, the true danger lies in what hasn't been seen yet. Diomedes has yet to enter the battlefield.

Like a dam collapsed, the mighty horde of Diomedes charges down the clearing. Monsters of all shapes and sizes burst from the treeline, each weak by the individual but in mass more than enough to make even the greatest warrior worry. The second wave more than three times the size of the last rush forth with frenzy.

Samuel screams from inside the temple and dozens upon dozens of arrows fly out, thinning the enemy numbers significantly but still barely noticeable from the horde about to descend upon them.

Trickling's of monsters quickly reach the trenches, and even more quickly are cut down by the mighty warriors. For many minutes they manage to maintain the trenches under the cover of arrow fire, but the true mass of the horde comes barreling down on their position. Making the call, Abigail brings the hunters out of the trenches and lets the enemy have them, to their detriment.

In order to reach the Hunters, they have to crawl through the trench and scale it back up again, making them easy pickings for the Hunters.

Abigail stabs a snarling doberman-headed monster in the throat and follows with a jab right into the eye of a dracaena. Quickly the minutes pass and more an more monsters climb from the trenches like maggots, forcing more and more of the Hunters to lose ground, even with the support of Samuel and his archers.

"ABIGAIL!" She hears someone scream, "GET THEM OUT OF THERE!"

She looks up in the sky and feels her heart freeze as a massive shadow visible only to her starts diving from the sky. The flapping of wings kicks up the wind like a hurricane, a roar like a lion and light of a building blast of fire starts building its way in the beasts maw.

Diomedes has entered the battlefield.

* * *

Ivy comes to a breathing halt, her lungs finally giving up as her numb legs collapse beneath her. The arrow lodged firmly in her middle-back tingles lightly, the arrowhead lodged in her lung scrapes against her heart and the sharp sting of such a feeling sends shivers down her quickly numbing body.

Finally, she redeemed herself. Even at the cost of her life, she did something good for a change. Feet silently march across the grass and a gentle hand touched her forehead, much like a mother, before it all goes black.

Artemis looks at the spot Ivy once occupied, her body becoming a simple Poison Ivy plant, and feels a tear roll down her cheek. She wipes the tear away and turns east, fire burning in her eyes.

She nods at her companion, and the two take off, message received and their next course of action clear.

* * *

Abigail winds back and launches her spear into the air with speed and might Samson never possessed as a demigod. The legendary Dragonslayer spear flies through the air like a missile, and with inhuman precision the weapon flies directly into Diomedes chest right where his heart would be. Unfortunately, the spear stops just short of piercing his heart, requiring only one more good push to fully end the dragon's life.

Diomedes' burning swoop is ground to a halt as he sudden;y pulls up from the temple and flies over it, kicking up a fierce wind and he shoots past and crashes into the forest on the rear end of the property.

Weaponless and outnumbered, Abigail makes the call to her companions, "Retreat! Fall back to the Temple!"

With quick agility and stunning cooperation, the elite warriors work in tandem with one another, covering blindspots and alternating fighters to shuffle the warriors inside without so much of a casualty.

Even so, many were injured in small ways that were sure to affect them as time went on. Cuts on arms and legs, a few spears in abdomens and even a nasty gnawing of an arm. Once everyone was rushed inside, the fight to close the temple doors was quick and bloody.

Two Hunters died in the choke point, sacrificing themselves as the doors closed behind them. Samuel gives them a forlorn nod and slams the door shut. He has to give it to her, that behemoth of a Hunter went down exactly as he imagined she would. Outnumbered, bloody, and doing it for the ones she loves.

He glances at Arethusa as the vines grown down the door and lock it in place. The lead Hunter is frozen, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. He pats her on the shoulder and lets her have her moment to mourn.

"Get some ambrosia and nectar, the doors won't hold them long."

Quickly Abigail hands out cubes of Ambrosia and bottles of nectar to the battered Hunters. They gulp them down with fervor, and still healing, move to shore up the front door with as much heavy things as they can.

Samuel looks around the quickly emptying temple and feels an unpleasant, hollow pit growing in his stomach. He's been in hairy situations before, and even if he knows Artemis is on her way he can't help but feel those anxious, gnawing questions in the back of his mind.

Is he going to make it out of this?

Will everyone survive?

He shakes his head and calls out to Arethusa, his voice overpowering the pounding, crying, screeching and scratching of the horde surrounding them.

"Arethusa!" She slowly turns, seemingly look through him rather than at him. He growl, voice scratchy with anger and frustration, "The fuck is the plan!"

Life returns to her eyes, and within moments she's returned. Quickly she turns to Abigail, desperation faint in her voice, "Abigail. We need the big guns. We need magic."

The former Hunter nods, light encompassing her body. As hard as it is to accept, without a weapon her help is useless. She quickly wishes her replacement good luck, he's going to need it for what's expected of him now.

Outside, The horde parts way as a lumbering laestrygonian forces his way through the crowd. Fashioned around his fists are forging anvils held inplace with rope and leather, forming some kind of glove, steel-knuckle around his fits. With a heaving grunt he pulls his fist back and crashes it against the door, rattling even the stone columns supporting the massive roof. To his displeasure, the door holds. He grunts are lets loose another devastating blow, followed by another and another. Over and over again his steel fists crash into the door, each strike weakening the thick, ancient wood until, with a final strike, the door breaks.

The laestrygonian reaches in and starts pulling the doors apart, piece by piece until all that's left are a bunch of old shelves and weak bed frames in his way. He shoves the pathetic barricade aside and steps first into the room just in time for an all consuming fire to lick away his flesh before he can even register the pain.

Coming to a halt, the frightened horde stands shaken in the entrance to the temple. Piercing, silver eyes glare at the cowering mass, hand extended out with the faintest whisper of fire dancing between his fingers.

Samson faces the horde stoically, behind him nearly two dozen Hunters bows at the ready, each aimed to kill as efficiently and quickly as possible. Samuel grins and holds his flaming sword out, ready to unleash a blast of brilliant blue fire.

"C'mon, you bunch of pussies! You a bunch of cowards or something?!"

With rejuvinated angry and madness, the horde rushes into the temple. With fierce cries of battle, arrows loose, magic shreds, fire burns and swords cuts long into the night.

* * *

Diomedes growls as he flies away from the temple. The bitch lodged the spear good into his chest and his claws are too clumsy to pull it out without accidentally shoving it into his heart. The attack on the temple most likely was a failure, his puny followers likely got butchered, but if it keeps him alive the stain of defeat means nothing compared to the jewel that is his life.

He spots his bitch of a sister perched high on a rocky outlook over-viewing the valley. Diomedes comes to a crashing halt at the lower end of the outcropping. He growls as she stares down at his with those three, cold, calculating eyes, looking at him as though he were nothing. Just like the cunt to do so. Probably gets off to having false power over him. She really is pathetic, no wonder their father disregarded her.

To his reluctance, she's the only one that has the grace to remove small objects cleanly. All of the dragons he's met and she's the only one that mastered fine control with even her relatively large size.

**"Brother,"** the bitch says, **"Looks like you've failed again. And where does that take you? Right back to me."**

_**"Hrmmmm, shut your flapping maw and help me! I've got the bane of our kind lodged in my chest and I can't get it out!"**_

Valiona doesn't move, not even to blink. She's still, like a statue, red eyes looming down on him, weighing his value and comparing it to dirt. He roars and slams a fist into the ground, shaking the very earth for miles. Still, she remains unfazed. An empty feeling starts crawling up Diomedes back. An anxious desperation mixed in with a healthy amount of fear.

Surely she wouldn't kill him now, after everything he's done fore her?! Food, comfort, his presence? What has Archrimedes given her? Nothing! That's what! Why would he ever worry about her betraying him? Family has always meant everything to-

Shrk!

He looks down as a tiny, brown haired goddess shoves the spear the rest of the way into his chest, piercing his heart cleanly.

Diomedes looks up and meets Valiona's hollow, barren eyes. Truly? After all this time _this _is how she does it? He looks at his claws in fervor, desperately trying to scrape away the gold flecks in some misbegotten way of staving off his own death, only to make it worse.

Desperate, he claws rocks, breaking the weak talons off but continuing even with just the stumps, slowly grinding away more of his quickly dissolving flesh. His desperation becomes mania. The dying beast starts thrashing his head against sharp, jagged rock, wailing like a temperamental trial. A sharp rock pierces his last good guy, blinding him fully and throwing hill vile blood about, painting the rocks an iron red.

With one final wail, he cries out for mercy just as his neck dissolves, decapitating the manic beast and ending his thrashing for good. The head rolls down the cliff and crashes into the trees below, leaving his twitching, bloodied carcass to fountain a torrent of blood down the cliff side.

Valiona huffs and allows Artemis to crawl onto her back, **"Dramatic fool. Couldn't even die good. Let's go save your friends before they burn down the forest."**

"Please. I can't imagine the idiot boys have anything control without a proper woman to control them."


	29. Mother Dearest

**A/N: What's this? A chapter only a few days after the last? Yes, well I do have some free time finally so I'd like to get the ball rolling. Prepare for the chapters to start flowing faster, this story is taking a long time and I'd like to make some decent progress on it. So we do start the next god in this chapter, but for the sake of plot that's just what has to happen so I can finally finish this fuckin' story.**

**Warning, this is a shorter chapter since there's no reason for it to be longer. Expect more chapters of varying lengths, I've decided to drop my self-created rule of forcing myself to write to a certain word length.**

* * *

Fifteen pyres burn for fallen warriors. Samuel may not have known any of their names, or even liked them in any sort of way, but he has to give them credit for fighting as well as they did. So he'll hold his hands in his lap and bow his head in respect. Not for who the fallen Hunters were, but for what they did to keep everyone, even himself, alive.

He glances at Arethusa, the Nereid still seemingly frozen in place. Shock, grief, self-doubt, he's been there before. Hell, he's basically been in this exact same position before, back when he was the King of the Gargareans and basically lead an entire army to their deaths.

Thankfully before they could all be slaughtered Artemis returned with Valiona to burn out the remains of Diomedes' army before hunting the beast down and spilling his blood down a cliff side. It sucks he couldn't have been the one to do the bastard in, but at the very least Grapes was avenged and Artemis got her vengeance for her deceased maidens. Even Ivy got an honorary pyre, whose death Samuel is sure makes the whole deal even worse for Arethusa since he told her she was going to die.

Sometimes it sucks being so right about everything.

Oh well, it can't be helped. At the end of the day he's not really _that _bothered with how things turned out. His part with Artemis is finally over, he can go back home and maybe start working on his garden again. Literally any activity in his home would be better than these shitty adventures with his asshole Godfather.

Speaking of, Samson is standing next to him and it is _very _aggravating. Why the stupid baby deity won't leave him alone he doesn't know, but when all of these bullshit trials are done and over he's going to make _damn sure _he never has to see him again.

His saving grace came with Artemis returning from her slaying of Diomedes. Valiona's powerful wings comes own onto the scorched ground gracefully, the cmoplete opposite of her brother who seemed to crash into the ground like and asteroid. The dragoness sets down, and the smaller figure of Artemis hops off with Samson's bloody spear clutched in her hand.

She marches towards Samson and Samuel like a proud general, head held up high making nothing short of direct eye contact. Samuel can't help but shiver slightly at the intensity in her gaze. Thankfully she doesn't turn him into a rabbit or something, instead tossing Samson's spear back to him and standing in front of them like they're grunts.

Her eyes turn to the burning pyres for a moment, lingering over the burning bodies before her gaze returns to her interim Hunters. She clears her throat, clearly unused to having to speak with males in anything close to a respectfully, and dare he suggest, impressed way?

"You two have done well, regardless of our Pyrrhic victory. I name your trial complete, and honorably remove yourselves from my service. You may leave."

Samson and Samuel look around, "Uh, we still don't know where we are. How are we supposed to get home?"

Artemis rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers. A swirling portal of golden energy swirls up behind them, Samuel vaguely hearing somewhat familiar voices through the distorted vortex.

The Son of Athena bows respectfully to Artemis, gives her some parting thanks and steps into portal, vanishing from view. Samuel sighs and starts heading for the portal, himself not much of a fan of magical transportation due to the knots he tends to get in hi stomach from what he considers unnatural travel. Before he can step through the portal, Arethusa calls out for him to wait.

Samuel turns around, eyes travelling to her severed stump wrapped in bloodied bandages for a second before meeting her eyes.

"How do you do it?"

He gives her a perplexed expression. She continues, "How do you be okay with it? With knowing people died under you?"

Ah. That's what's bugging her. He simply shakes his head lightly and heads towards the portal calling out over his shoulder, "You don't. It stays with you for good. All you can do is keep leading, you don't stop until you're no longer in charge."

Then he steps into the portal, his purpose having now been fulfilled.

* * *

Samson looks around Samuel's mansion as he waits for him to step through the portal. To his surprise much of the hustle and bustle of Hylla's investigative crew has died down. No mass chaos of a dozen Amazons running around, no piles of papers taped to the wall with string pinned between them. Just a regular looking household with maybe a few extra guests.

"What happened?" Samson asks to Hylla as she enters the room with Perry, handing him what looks like a check that he pockets with some sense of discomfort. Hylla spots Samson and almost literally drags Perry with her.

"Ah, good, you're back! Where's Samuel? Perry and I have some good news to share."

Just as she finishes her sentence, Samuel enters the room looking somewhat dazed. He clutches his head and groans in discomfort before coughing fiercely into his hand.

"Crap, I think I'm allergic to something in that forest."

Hylla practically beams with joy and rushes over to give Samuel a hug. Samson swears he can hear Samuel's bones creaking from her strength, and curiously is how confused Samuel looks. Hylla sets him down, and Samuel laughs with an uneasy smile.

"Damn, babe, what's the occasion?"

Hylla scoffs and smacks his chest, making him choke and lose his breath for a second. She hides her face for a second, and though it's only a flash Samson sees her wince. He shifts his head to the side, but decides it's not important and lets Hylla continue what she wished to share with them.

"Shut it! Anyways, Samuel, Samson, we've got good news. Our private eye here managed to bust the cult chasing you guys!"

Samson's gaze snaps to Perry. The Son of Aphrodite has his back to them, drinking from an ornate flask. He just shrugs and makes his way to the door, "I'm good at what I do. I'll stick around a bit and help your girls with a timeline and paperwork."

Hylla's smug smile creeps across her face, "Sure you don't just want to hang around Sarah?"

He's out the door in an instant without another word. Hylla's smug smile is still on her face for a second before turning to the Sam's to further elaborate.

"Perry and Sarah managed to track down the cult to an old warehouse in the slums of New York. I called in my forces and we circled the whole place, unfortunately they all took cyanide pills. We did get their ledger, and currently we're having Mori and Perry translate it."

Samson's brows furrow in confusion, the whole situation seeming just too... complete. He can't explain it, and he has no evidence against it, but something just feels wrong. His intuition and general paranoia makes him feel that this isn't the end of everything. He makes a note to go over Perry's notes and timeline later, just to see if he can put his mind at ease.

"We can finally take some time to ourselves," Hylla practically sings in relief, "Surely the next trial won't be so sudden, so let's take the time to gt to know everyone. Mori's told me so much about you and Max, Samson, and I'd like to know more about Samuel's family."

"Hylla..." Samuel warns. Hylla's eyes snap to meet his, a sharp gleam in her gaze that makes most men tremble. Samuel doesn't back down, his own red eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint. The two stare each other down before Samuel storms off to the kitchen with a scoff. Hylla rolls her eyes angrily and makes her way towards the living room. Samson follows and takes a seat across from her on the sofa.

Hylla cups her eyes on the couch and bounces her leg angrily for several moments. Samson waits patiently, still unsure if Hylla wants to talk to him still of if he should tell her about Max in the first place. Samuel seemed pretty upset, and he's unsure if it's appropriate.

Before he can voice his concern, Hylla and Samuel turn towards the kitchen as they hear the sound of something heavy crashing into the ground followed by glass breaking. They quickly rush into the kitchen and find Samuel face down on the ground. Hylla curses and rushes to his side. Flipping him over she puts her ear to his chest and sighs when she detects a heartbeat, but still worries as his breath is ragged and wheezing. Samson goes to fish a bottle of nectar from his pocket when Hylla stops him.

"Wait! Don't use nectar, I think it's internal and he won't heal right if we use that! Get Mori from outside, we need her magic to see what's wrong!"

* * *

Mori leans down to Samuel's side, the Son of Eris having woken up from his faint earlier but winces and groaning with every breath. Mori ghosts her hands around his chest, faint silver energy surrounding her hand and arm. The magic fades and she sighs in some mix of relief and worry.

"Not sure how you haven't realized this yet, Samuel, but your ribs are basically caved in and squeezing your lungs. They're definitely cracked. Good call, Hylla, about not using nectar. It heals wounds, but it can't set bones. His ribs would've healed crooked like this and affect his lungs and heart basically for the rest of the life. Bloody Hell, Samuel, I don't know what magic you're hoped up on, but it's disabled much of your internal pain nerve endings. The fact that you're wincing right now means your body is _stupidly _damaged. Like, you'd be dead if you weren't a demigod. The Hell have you been doing?"

"F-fought a... _dragon. _Knocked-knocked into a tree!"

Hylla pinches the bridge of her nose, barely suppressing her urge to punch him in the gut and turning to Mori, "So, Mori, what can we do?"

She tilts her head side to side in thought for a second, "Leave him with me. I've got a bunch of potions and spells to reset the bones without surgery, but it requires time and for him to be still. He needs rest especially, there's so much trauma in his body from these back to back adventures I'm surprised he hasn't collapsed sooner. Samson, get my bag from the van. It has my things in it."

Samson nods and runs off to the front door. He tosses it open, and before he can take a step outside a black, leather bag is suddenly shoved into his chest. He almost drops it from surprise, and almost trips over his feet again when he sees who's standing at the door.

"Hello, Samson," Athena greets coolly, the slightest tug of a smile on her lips, "You'll be needing this."


	30. Look Back to March Forward

**A/N: Yay chapter. I'm feeling much better now that I can, like, just write what I need to. We're heading back into some somewhat familiar waters this chapter, and I'm quite happy to be doing this mini-arc specifically since Athena and Samson's relationship has always been a favorite of mine, even if I don't write them interacting a great deal. It's for the best really, as much as having Athena be a driving character she's always been, to me at least, a more subtle force pushing someone in a certain direction. Especially with Samson. We'll get more interaction with them this chapter, and finally a good sit down conversation between them. Anyways, enjoy the chapter, it's much more dialogue driven but the two primary speakers in this chapter were literally born from thoughts. Expect talking.**

* * *

The room is quiet as Samson walks in with Mori's bag and the _freaking goddess Minerva _right behind him. He sets the bag down and pointedly looks away from Minerva, never meeting her eyes as she periodically glances his way.

Samuel was moved to the couch on his demand so he could watch television while bedridden, much to Hylla's annoyance as they do in fact have an infirmary designed specifically for situations such as this. Deciding to be nice to Samuel for the time being, she kept her reservations to herself and let him have this small comfort.

Minerva's presence is one not many mortal know how to react to. Hell, not many gods do, either, Samson can testify to that from a small conversation he had with Apollo at the Winter solstice over forty years ago. The Olympian looks over Samuel's form, grey eyes sharp in an indescribable way. She nods at Mori, and the nervous sorceress continues using some form of magic to heal Samuel.

Hylla looks between Samson and Minerva, noting the similarity between them, not just in features but also in general temperance. Both are quiet with eyes that always seem to be in thought. Both stand up straight and proud and trail their eyes from interesting thing to interesting thing, like they can never keep their focus on one thing for more than a few moments at a time.

"Lady Minerva?"

Her eyes snap to meet Hylla, and for a second she can sense a warning signal flare up in her demigod instincts. The intense warning signal dies down quickly and the narrowing of the goddesses eyes turns warm once again.

"Athena, dear. Now, my Son and I must be off. Don't worry about Samuel here, he's in no state to assist me."

She snaps her fingers, and in a flash of light Samson and Athena vanish completely. Mori breathes a sigh of relief and snaps her fingers, causing the black bag Samson left on the floor to hover over by her side.

Hylla nods her hide, silently agreeing with Mori and kneeling by her side and gently pets Samuel's head. He gives her a weak, cheeky grin before passing right the fuck out. Hylla rolls her eyes, but continues kneeling next to Mori as she does her... voodoo business.

"Honest to Gods, I have no idea how Samuel is still going," Mori blurts out, snapping Hylla from her silent remote silence, "Seriously. He gets attacked with one of the most painful curses one can receive, basically overdoses on the ridiculously powerful painkiller I gave him, proceeds to get infected with a wasting disease from a vampire, is cured by a powerful divine blessing that should have caused liver failure because of compatibility issues with leftover magic in his system, breaks his fucking ribs fighting a dragon and only now collapses, still alive and certain to make a complete recovery in only a few days. Hylla, what the fuck did you marry?"

She looks down sadly at her godson, "What did the world do to turn him into... _this?_"

Hylla sighs sadly, remembering full well what happened to him in her time knowing him, and how he was already fucked by that time anyways. Should she spill the beans to Mori? Samuel is certain to bitch about it when he wakes up but... sometimes you have to push someone to make them get better. Samuel is so stubborn that it becomes detrimental to his well being, even if he thinks it's not.

Damn what he'll say, this is his godmother for Bellona's sake!

"Samuel's been through a lot, Mori, even before he met me he was already in pieces. I think that he was likely born different from most kids, and not because he's a demigod, too. I think he might've inherited Discordia's natural state of darkness. She's the goddess of bloody conflict, after all. Maybe if the war with the Titans never happened he might've had the chance to learn to control it, but his time with Saturn really is what did him in. After he never was able to really hold his nature back until just recently, and that's with the two of us doing serious work to help him become a fully realized person. He's made leaps and bounds, but his anger is still a problem especially since he tends to pair it with his incredible stubbornness."

The immortal daughter of Hecate sighs and lets her eyes drift to the floor. She's made many mistakes over her years of life, and now that she's back where she started she can finally see that, in no small part, she definitely had a hand in how Samuel turned out. If she wasn't so obsessed with finding Samson she would've stayed with Max and been there to protect him and Samuel. She probably could've helped him become well adjusted but... then there wouldn't be Samson. He would've been locked away for decades, centuries, maybe even millennia. Samson is the man she loves for all of eternity, it would've killed her if she just gave up on him. She knows for certain that if things were reversed he'd spend ever ounce of money he inherited and earned to find her.

The whole situation is complicated and even though self pity is something everyone can fall trap to, 'what if's' are never something to let yourself be possessed by. In the end, she left Max on good terms, both understanding she's not Samuel's mother and not responsible for every second of his life. Max wanted Samuel to be raised as normal as he could, which was perfect for Mori to make her exit from his life.

Even if she was there, Mori's presence alone would certainly draw monsters to Max's home and further endanger Samuel.

So no, even if a small part of her wants to blame this on herself, it is incredibly unfair to do so. Max wouldn't blame her for what happened, she knows, and even if Samuel and Eris do logically she's just a scapegoat. Damn that fucking bitch, Luna! She forced Mori to lose her mind and kill her best friend! None of this would have ever happened if that Titaness just let her do her business in Tartarus in peace!

Mori's just glad that the Roman bitch was reabsorbed by Samson and subsequently transformed back into Selene, a Titan that everyone likes. Unfortunately... that's not enough for Samuel, and she can't blame him. Even now she struggles with accepting that she was also a victim in this nefarious affair. Hylla sympathizes with her, which helps quite a bit, but like she said, Samuel is stubborn.

At least he hasn't shot her in the head again. That really hurt!

"Thank you, Hylla, I-I appreciate you opening up about Samuel like this to me... I just, I'd like to make things better, in some small way, if I can."

The Amazon queen is silent for a second. Being all... gooey and emotional like this is new to her, but now that things are finally becoming calm in the world she can let herself be more, well, normal. Also, right now, she's not being a queen to a group of warrior. She's being a friend to her husband's family member.

"Just give it time. Samuel's a hard man to work with, but he's still a smart man, just highly emotional. All I can say is, just be persistent. If you're actually in the right, he'll come around eventually."

Samuel doesn't say anything, just listens carefully to Hylla and his Auntie Mori descend into simple small talk. It's soothing, and after just a few minutes actually falls asleep.

* * *

Reality flashes back into Samson's eyes. He's seated at a nice table in a small, cozy, and eerily familiar fifties styled diner. His mother is seated across from him, hands folded neatly together resting on the table and an undecipherable gleam of thought in her eyes. Two cups of tea appear on the table, steaming hot with a wonderful scent of Ryokucha. He gently picks his tea up and sips from the cup. Hot, very hot, but very smooth, high quality.

He looks out the window, but can't make anything of the outside. The windows themselves are clean, just that the outside word is foggy, smudged-like, as though this place were literally a foggy memory.

Of course, he's pretty certain that's literally what this place is. The familiar decor, the familiar setting and aesthetic. This is the diner Samson talked to his father, Katsuhiro in that led up to his father's death at his mother's hands.

He... doesn't know how to feel about this. The diner itself was torn down decades ago, and even if he had fond memories of the place he was glad to see it go.

Samson enjoys the familiar atmosphere as best he can for a few minutes, savoring his tea and desperately trying not to cry. He looks back to his mother, meeting her expectant gaze. He sets his tea down and folds his hands on the table, a mirror image of his mother across the same table.

"Mother."

"Son. Do you know where we are?"

Samson scoffs, "Don't patronize me. I can never forget a place like this. The diner where everything that I came originates from. This is... this is where father told me the truth, and the place where his death was decided."

She's quiet, eyes still expectant. Samson thinks about it for a moment. She wants more from him, an elaboration it seems, "This is where my destiny began? Yes, I can see that. Everything began with Father's death, after all. We're here as a reminder. That something important for the future revolves around events of the past. Something old affecting everything old? Mother... what is going on? Not just with what's happening to Apollo, but Samuel and myself too. I can't believe the cult is done for, nothing in our lives are ever that easy."

Athena's eyes seem to speak a thousand joys. Samson feels his heart beat just a little faster. All children of Athena jump in joy practically when they make Athena proud. As toxic as the relationship is, they all bend over backwards and are very happy with it, regardless of everything they've done before.

"You do not need me to answer questions you already hold the answers to. Samson, you've become the brightest child of mine in centuries. As your father said, never stop questioning the world, even if you're never given the answers. You remember the world of broken glass, yes? The one you saved your Moroiaca from."

Samson's gaze sharpens. Athena continues, "In the age of ancients the Primordials trapped something in there following the defeat of the Crooked One. Negativity, raw, human emotion was given formlessness, born from the collapsing of an age. I suppose you could call it a curse with a body. Everything that ever hated us channeled those emotions which threatened the balance of the world. It was sent away into the broken world and left to rot. Now, our age stands in a tipping point, barely holding on by a thread. The entity is thrashing against the liminal barrier, hoping to burst free and spread its cursed form across our world. Out of all the beings in this world, only you and Moroiaca have traversed its depths. My peers find it a none issue to deal with this entity, but we're creatures of thought. Our dear fellow Prometheus is worried, and so to am I. Traverse the glass world, defeat the entity, and I shall grant you my wisdom. One question I deem worthy of an answer."

Eyes closed in thought, Samson exhales deeply through his nose. Never is a conversation with Mother one that answers things in any easy, sensible way. And now he has to go back into this bizarro world again? He never fully understood what that place actually is, but he does believe his theory is the most right, at the very least. Then what about this entity? His Mother describes it as a curse give, form, born from negativity of a violent end to an ageless era. He compares them to an Arai demon, only more 'general'. Arai curse the individual responsible for a death, whatever this _thing _is seems to be the embodiment of hate from the end of the Golden Age.

Can he even fight something like this? Well, if it was impossible he wouldn't be sent after it like a butcher by his Mother in the first place. She always pushes her children to go beyond themselves, but never asks for the un-doable. Well, maybe. Sometimes he can't tell if people succeed because the Fates will it, or if it was in their capabilities the whole time.

Well, he can only think about things so much without actually doing anything.

"Mother, I'm ready. Send me to the world."

Her eyes suddenly make him question himself, as though she's saying 'Are you really ready?'. He curses himself for being so arrogant, and before he can try and gleam any more information from Athena, she snaps her fingers, sending him back into the unknown.


	31. Wonderland Sucks

**A/N: Holy hell, After a week and a half straight I can get a day off! Sorry for the lack of uploads, but I write on my days off and without that I just don't really write. But hey, I'm here now with a chapter, and since I have the next several days off I'll be getting some good new chapters out.**

* * *

Samuel meets Mori's gaze, both expressionless with empty, unfeeling, unblinkng eyes. Slowly, Samuel looks down to the item she holds out for him to take. A small glass vial filled with a sickly green fluid that seems halfway to being as thick as slime. He looks back to her and slowly shakes his head. A single eyebrow raises and she pushes the potion closer to his lips, causing him to further squish into the couch like an angry turtle into its shell.

"Samuel, for fuck's sake just drink the damn thing!"

"Fuck you bitch, that's poison!"

Mori throws her hands up dramatically. Samuel notes that the fluid in the vial barely moved from the sudden movement, further reinforcing his decision _not _to drink that shit.

"Oh, my gods. Samuel, do you want to be on your ass with bent ribs for like, nine months?!"

"Yes!" He yells, "That sounds great! Wonderful even! I've been running across the country getting bit, thrown, crushed and heartbroken for like, a month straight! Sitting on my ass watching the Sopranos sounds like a great time right now!"

"Okay answer me this; When your ass is dragged by this bed by the next god that walks through that door, are you going to be able to handle the shit storm they throw you into with caved in ribs and a heart that physically can't beat properly?"

"..._Fine! _Give me the shit!"

Samuel sits up and snatches the vial from her hands, grumbling angrily as he twists the top off and carefully smells the contents.

"Good lord, what the fuck is in this! It smell like you mixed a skunks ass juice with piss!"

Mori scoffs haughtily, not from the idea of using urine in alchemy, but more from a 'pfft, amateur' way.

"Please, urine is what beginners use! This is made from high quality-"

"SHUT UP! Just, don't tell me!"

He looks at the vial with vile for several tense moments. Mori watches with the utmost intensity, her emerald colored eyes giving Samuel slight flashbacks to a other certain son of Hecate he _despises._

In one quick gulp, the entire potion is emptied into his mouth. He holds it for barely a second before spitting it out violently, all over Mori's face. He makes choking noises and desperately tries to wipe the leftover fluid off his tongue.

"UGH! Auntie what the fuck! This is undrinkable!"

Mori doesn't respond. She's silent with her eyes closed as the potion drips down her face. With a quick snap of her fingers, the potion on fer face and the floor appears back in the vial, even her clothes and hair being dried completely. Samuel looks at her, blinks and looks at the vial completely filled and capped like he didn't just spit it all over someone.

Unfazed, Mori explains while setting her hair back into its proper style, "Nice try, but you're not getting out of this. You used to hold your food in your mouth then spit it all over my face when I went to wipe your face. You were a nasty little bugger, ya' know that? Max always complained about how much of a handful you were and how many nannies he had to go through on a monthly basis."

Samuel scoffs but doesn't say anything. Hearing someone talk so casually about his father is still a weird experience, and he isn't sure how to feel about it even years after the... event happened.

He throws his head back and finally downs the horrible potion. He almost spits it out again, but forces himself to swallow with a loud groan of displeasure. He leans back into the couch and stares up blankly at the ceiling.

For a second he thinks about asking her about him, his father. Only Eris ever talked about him, and he's seen his mother only a scant few amount of time. Likely less than he can count on his fingers, thinking about it. Here is a chance to learn more about his father, to get to understand him by the few people he had close to him. He thinks on it for a second, but decides not to try and humor Auntie Mori anymore than he has to.

The plan always has and will be to get them out of his life as soon as possible. She had her chance and fucked it up when she let his father die, and he's not about to forget that any time soon.'

"You gonna take off any time soon?"

Mori sighs at his not so subtle shooing attempt, "I'm your nurse. I need to make sure your bones are setting properly, and that means I need to keep a vigilant watch or else we'll have to do this all over again."

"Yeah, more time around you assholes _would _be pretty awful."

She rolls her eyes opens her bag, searching for another potion recipe. Although childish insults are something she's long grown past caring about, hearing it from Samuel strikes up some unhappy memories.

The pain in her heart really is quite awful.

* * *

_"This place is awful."_

You don't have to tell Samson that twice. He's been here once before and it was awful trying to navigate the distorted landscape. Though he notes that the world seems to have changed somehow? It's hard for him to explain as the whole realm is the most bizarre place he's ever seen, but it has changed from before.

It still has islands' that float aimlessly in the air around one another loosely connected by vines, roots or other fleshy growths with each 'island' being in completely different angles to one another while gravity works relative to each twisted lands sense of gravity. That means you could look straight up at the floor of a different one and see gravity working relative to the angle, regardless of what is 'up' or 'down' compared to your version of it.

However, Samson notes that odd, distorted 'cracks' in reality like cracks in a mirror are sprinkled around the world in varying sizes. Peeking into the horribly shattered anomaly, he can see bare flashes of imagery and words, but not really make anything out.

_"You said this was a flipped version of our world created by the destruction of the Golden Age, then perhaps these are 'memories' of that time?"_

A worthy hypothesis, and given that this world was created by the death of a time god then it makes sense for these to be 'mirrors' that look out at different points of time in the history of the world. Whether he can interact with the anomalies he doesn't know and isn't too keen to find out. His Looking Glass Mirror can travel via mirrors, and during creation he noted the distinct possibility of being shredded into particles should the enchantments be made wrong, so who's to say a similar issue couldn't happen with these things?

_"Athena said we're hunting a formless entity. She never told us exactly what we're looking for, or how we can fight it. Anything you can add onto this?"_

Embarrassingly, Samson really doesn't know. He _does _know he made a mistake by being too hasty. Athena clearly knows what the entity is and how it can be defeated, and given the look he caught in her eye she would've told him too. Dammit! If only he wasn't so hasty he could've prepared himself. What kind of Son of Athena is he if he can't even go into a situation without bumbling around like a drunk!

_"Samson! Calm yourself. This is an entity of negative emotions, okay? You'll summon it to us in no time if you keep acting like a child! Get over yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, and she could've easily told us by herself too. Clearly she intends this to be your true trial. Not how well you can handle foreknowledge on a situation, but how well you can handle with limited information. Now get a move on. Surprise is on our side but who knows for how long. And don't forget; Last time there were glass monsters we **couldn't destroy**."_

She's right. Now's not the time to be childish and self absorbed. If he's going to be successful Samson needs a plan and a good one at that. The glass creatures from years ago weren't necessarily powerful but being made from glass shards they were able to reform in only a matter of moments, essentially making them invulnerable. Last time he had to drop them off the edge of an island into the vast emptiness that surrounds everything and nothing.

That was back when he was young and weak, barely able to use magic if that. Now he's become much more powerful, and his skill with sorcery has reached heights not achieved by any in camp since he was still human. Call him arrogant, but after years of slogging through the mud he's finally become the strong being he wanted to be all along.

_"Samson, I can feel something heading our way."_

Dammit, just like last time! The glass creatures seem to have a psychic way of tracking intruders down, they always show up within moments of entering and no matter how far you travel they find where you're at.

Samson quickly looks around his surroundings, the landmass he's on is large and flat, hardly anything bigger than grain grass growing. Though what immediately draws his focus is the loud, thundering crash of a huge chunk of the ground being ripped up by some gigantic force. The city block sized chunk of Earth slowly floats away along with several smaller boulders and a huge cloud of loose soil.

He scans across the rest of the land and sees faint white in the distance. With a place in mind, he sets off after the mystery location, hoping it'll lead him to wherever it is he's supposed to be.

* * *

_"To your left!"_

Samson ducks down as a glass hellhound leaps over his head. It crashes into the dirt, long claws digging deep trenches into the Earth as it pivots its body around and prepares for another charge. Samson holds his hand out to the creature and a blast of telekinetic energy utterly destroys the loose form it holds and scatters the glass across the field.

As he remembers, the glass clinks and cracks as it slowly starts piecing itself back together. Suddenly Samson's whole body is thrown from under his feet by a tremor comparable to the Demon Horse back at Laila's mansion.

A great crack starts by his feet and quickly grows across the length of the field, spider-webbing into many small fissures. He quickly comes back to his feet and faintly sees the glass horde approaching before the ground under them gives way, forming a massive hole that goes straight through the entire landmass. Samson curses and jumps to his feet, taking off towards the now visible stone city.

_"Samson this whole place is falling apart! We're running out of places to go!"_

Dammit! What the hell can he do?! He can't fly, and none of his spells can hold a disintegrating chunk of Earth in once piece long enough to help him understand what the fuck is going on!

His only chance might be... He looks around, trying to spot the familiar peculiarity as he races around the winding, abandoned streets of what must've been some ancient Greek city.

The ground shakes violently, a thundering boom as more of the ground collapses nearby. He stops at what must've once been the trading center and takes a quick look around.

_"Your 6 o'clock!"_

He spins around and there it is, one of the mirror anomalies! Another explosion like thunder and he sees part of the city off in the distance sinking below the city skyline. Making what is likely the stupidest decision yet, he breaks for the anomaly and leaps towards it, all the while a fissure grows and swallows all the land behind him.

The last thing he can make out as he collides with the mystical crack in reality is the color blue and the fluttering of wings and something heavy crashing into roaring water and the distraught screaming of a broken heart.

* * *

Samson slowly opens his eyes and finds himself standing in the center of a dimly lit room. He looks around and sees diagrams and drawing stuck to the wall. Curious, Samson steps closer and gently takes one from the wall. It's a drawing of an invention, wings of some kind, but very classical and fantastic looking. Almost exactly like the drawings of Da Vinci, only these ones also contain references to ingredients and principles only a Demigod would know.

Suddenly, it all clicks. Wings, Magic and tragedy can only mean one thing. This is Daedalus's workshop, and the one invention he's known for is-

"Wings."

Making a quick decision, Samson races around the room, turning up every corner and basket desperately hoping to find what he's looking for. At a large wardrobe he throws open the doors, and instead of clothes he finds a gleaming bronze contraption similar in size and appearance to a backpack. Samson picks it up and holds it up to the light peering in from the tiny window high on the wall.

He feels the sides and presses a button he finds. Slowly gears like a clock whir and click. Chutes open on the sides and slowly glimmering wings made of enchanted metal fold out. Even in the dim light they sparkle radiantly with glory. A smile works its way onto his face, a childish giddiness and excitement he hasn't felt in years building up in his heart.

_"Well, looks like we solved our flight problem."_


	32. Don't be an Icarus

**A/N: Hey all, back with another chapter. I'm pretty excited for this one, elements of this new 'world' were always fun to play around with, and now that Samson is airborne he's got a new way of moving around the battlefield _and _a way to navigate a crumbling world. Certainly helpful right about now. Metaphysical concepts have always been fun to think about, and applying fantasy elements really adds another layer to the cake. And since this is a world of memories, there's _that _concept to dick around with.**

* * *

_"Okay, so we've got wings. Now what? How do we get out of here and, despite how much I hate that place, what are we looking for?"_

A worthy thing to consider, and much to his dismay, Samson really has no fucking clue. This place is a memory within a nexus, a congregation of many, maybe even infinite memories of others all across time. However, is that really the case? Kronos was the Lord of Time, but he seemed limited to manipulating it around him, not moving between points in it. Either he never possessed the power or his control was really not all that impressive to begin with. So that begs the question; Is this just a memory that can be interacted with, or is this true and proper time travel?

_"Fascinating question. How about we **don't **potentially fuck with the timeline and instead just try get out of here with our prize."_

Right. Good point. Let's _not _making A Wonderful Life a real experience would be a tremendously awful thing. Plus if watching Doctor Who is anything to go on time shenanigans can be pretty consequential.

_"How are we going to get around without being seen?"_

Thinking back on it, Samson and Mori were able to accomplish complete invisibility between the two of them, however that was back when they both were significantly weaker and still mortal. He's become more than twice as proficient since then, so that means he _should _be able to power the spell by himself now.

He silently mutters the incantation, and with a snap of his fingers, he's gone completely see through! Samson, before leaving the workshop, decides to take out his camera and photograph all of the diagrams and drawings in Daedalus's workshop. You never know what might be a good invention that'll come in handy later.

_"Will you stop robbing from your brother and just get us out of here already?! You know how much I dislike the past."_

Samson reaches to his throat, flashing back to the memory he shared with Abigail's death. He shakes his head and makes for the door. Both she and him have issues with events of the past.

* * *

Samuel watches Mori craft another potion with a mix of curiosity and fear. Curiosity because some wild shit was happening, like sparks and what might be a Hyena snarling, of which whatever was happening he couldn't see because her back is turned. Fear comes from the idea of having to drink whatever the _fuck _she's going to force him to swallow.

He feels himself start to sweat and starts looking around the room, trying to find Hylla, or even _Sarah _of all people. Anyone who isn't bat shit insane like his aunt!

"Hey, so... where's Hylla run off too again? And when the _fuck _is she coming back?"

"What?" She turns around, something maybe like blood smeared all over her face like something was clawing at her in its last seconds of life, "Oh she's at some big meeting with her sub-leaders from across the parts of the Amazons. Should be back in a few days or so, however long it goes for really."

Mori turns back and the faint screaming and sparks start up again. Samuel starts nervously tapping his finger on the sofa, eyes tracing around the room trying desperately to find something to distract himself with.

His eyes land on an old photo hanging up on the wall, and he finds himself almost shocked into silence as he takes in the old image. It's of a small boy with a big, toothy smiling (missing teeth of course) and a small, energetic puppy craddled in his arms. He sighs sadly at the old photo and lays his head down and looks blankly up at the ceiling.

The horrible sounds of pain and torment continue and Samuel decides that a nice distraction from whatever hell is impending him would be just _great._

_"_Remember my old dog? I was like five when dad came home with the puppy in his arms."

Suddenly she stops, the screams and sparks die down and a silence overtakes the room. She folds her hands in her lap and looks blankly away.

"Silas, a long-haired German Shepard."

"Yup-" He says popping the P, "Where'd he come from anyway? Silas was always so... _special_. I've never seen a dog quite like him again."

Mori slowly starts back on her work, but with much less passion and speed as before. The screams are barely whispers and at most one or two sparks sizzle over her shoulders.

"We got him from a breeder upstate. Silas was a very expensive puppy, very special because of his parents. Strong, smart and fast. He came from a proper working stock the aristocracy specially bred for hunting in the old world."

Samuel smiles and folds his hands behind his back, thinking back on old memories of his beautiful companion Silas. The way he smiled, the funny way he would tilt his head when you try to tell him to do something. Silas was one of the best dogs ever, and it breaks Samuel's heart he isn't here right now.

"We only had him for a years after you left. Silas got out of the yard one day and got hit by a mail truck. It was... not a good day. The years we had him for were some of the best I've ever had. I don't know. He was just a really good dog. Dad threatened to sue the mail guy into oblivion, but thankfully he didn't. I can't blame him for something that wasn't his fault."

Mori sighs quietly, unsure of how to go forward with the conversation. She's already excused herself from fault with Max's death, but whenever Samuel blames her it makes her feel like she did all over again.

"What was he like, dad, I mean?"

Though, for this she can't help but smile. She has _years _of trash on Max to go with!

* * *

Samson soars through the air with the wings he 'acquired' in Daedalus's shop. The rush of adrenaline through his veins is one of the greatest experiences he's ever had, and he's take _lots _of drugs with his old Hippie friends back in the day. Even Woodstock wasn't as fun as this!

The wings attach to yourself with straps and they seem to have a connection to your thoughts in some way. Flying up is as seamless as thinking about doing it and the wings follow through naturally, as though they were just another extension of your body.

Daedalus was a genius, smart enough with his inventions to make a Child of Hephaestus look like a kid playing with Legos. He even found a way to shove his soul into an automaton body that looked no different from a normal human. He conquered death without having to use any kind of Godly magic! From a technical standpoint Daedalus is an unmatched genius with only forging Gods being ahead. Samson works with the mystical but he might find ways to implement the schematics he saw into something useful.

Flying high in the air, Samson can see a sprawling ancient city reaching far around a large beach with a long stretch, almost the whole length of the city, being dedicated to ship docks. Fishing vessels, Warships, trading barges, the city is clearly a Naval Superpower just by looking at it from up high. He maintains a high altitude and looks down on the busy residents of the city, still invisible thankfully, and tries to spot the anomaly or anything out of place that could send him back to the distorted world.

All of the sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck raise and his instincts start to flare with warning. Looking at the city, Samson watches in horror as shadows black as Nyx claw from inside every building. Smoke churns and churls like a living mass as it spreads like a disease across the city in only a matter of moments. The residents don't even react to the eldritch horror growing across the town. In fact, the shadowy mass seems to faze right through them, as though they were ghosts.

"No," Samson says to himself, "We're the ghosts! Then how was I able to take these wings?"

Suddenly the smoky shadows jump high in the air, towers and plumes rocketing high into the air aiming directly at Samson. The Son of Athena curse and beats his wings, aiming down low to gain momentum and speed.

He pulls up just above the water level, wings opening to catch lift and bring him to a safe level above the water with great speed. He zips past the endless stream of boats, zipping dangerously close between them as he tries to put distance between them and whatever is chasing him. He looks behind him and watches in horror as a wall of black void chases after him with increasing speed.

Samson aims his hand and launches a few balls of fire, but the hurling flames just pass right through without even poking a hole or otherwise disturbing the smoke.

Looking forward, Samson's eyes widen in shock as the side of a boat races at him with incredible speed. He barely manages to beat the wings to push him higher, but not high enough. He clips the railing of the boat, and with his incredible momentum he continues across the length of the ship and collides with the other railing before rolling over it and crashing waves below.

Acting quickly, he folds the wings back into the pack, hoping that it's water proof, and swims towards the boat. The smoke quickly rushes over the top of the boat and tops, the center mass of the smoke acting somewhat like a head as guttural hisses and low screams emanate from the churning mass of the main body.

Staying completely still, Samson studies the entities behavior as it quickly looks across the decks of nearby ships. His heart stops when the 'head' turns and looks in his direction, but to his surprise it simply looks away and rushes back over the top of the ship he was hiding in.

_"I don't understand this creature," _Abigail says in his mind, _"It can see us while we're invisible and moving, but not while we're wet and still? How does this creature work?"_

Samson gives it a second, his mind racing over everything that happened leading up to this moment. Is it the water that shielded him? If so, then how? Ocean water by itself doesn't have any magical properties without a Nymph or a water god, and clearly direct line of sight mean nothing because his invisibility is still up. The only thing he can see different is... himself? He was shocked, maybe even afraid by the entity, but in the water he was calm and collected. Then does that mean...?

"It detects emotion! This has to be the entity mother sent us after! This thing is raw, negative negativity given form, so it makes sense that it can see using it. Vision has nothing to do with it, its whole existence, even its senses, are ran by emotion. We need complete control of out feelings to hide from... _whatever _that thing is."

_"Then we have a way of hiding from it. Then how are we supposed to fight it? Your fire did nothing, and I highly doubt whacking it with a sword or your spear will do anything. But we have something to go off of. It's related to emotion. Which means our weapon has to be to."_

There in lies the problem. Emotion is a good weapon _in a society_. Emotion can fuel wars, but it's not the thing killing people exactly. It can be used as a reason to kill, but not an _actual _weapon. So how can he physically weaponize emotion?

Unfortunately, he doesn't know.

_"Samson, look down in the water. There's something shimmering down in the water."_

He looks down through the crystally water and watches something shimmering deep below the waves. He dives down below the waves, once again thanking his godly body as it no longer requires oxygen to work _and _also thanking it for somehow giving him incredibly clear vision even under the water. He swims down deeper and deeper, passing by fish and the occasional shark and he nears the shimmering object.

Down at the ocean bed, he comes across an incredibly depressing sight. The skeleton of someone is half buried in the sand and clay, his bones scattered about by bottom feeders with old, worn down wood structures attached to his arms. Comparing the wood to the drawings in Daedalus's workshop makes it easy to guess whose body this was.

_"Icarus, the poor boy. So excited to fly that he ignored his father's warnings and fell victim to circumstance. Your wings must've been an advanced version Daedalus worked on after his sons death."_

Samson ignores the unfortunate body and starts digging the shimmering object from the sand. He pulls out a single, golden necklace that glows completely unnaturally. Suddenly, the world around him starts to fade as he feels himself being pulled from the world much like how his mirror would teleport him.

He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again he's falling through the air back in the distorted memory world from before. He unfolds the wings and glides across the air, watching as more and more of the floating islands inhabiting the world crack and fall apart from bizarre gravitational forces seeming to run rampant through the strange dimension.

The amulet is gone from his hands when he looks, leaving him slightly confused.

_"It seems like important objects are the way to exit the memories. If we go back into one then we have to touch some sort of object that relates to the memory to be freed. I wonder why the amulet was key, though? I would've assumed it would be wings."_

"Maybe Daedalus gave this to Icarus? A token for his son? Who knows. All that matters is we have important information, but we still have a lot more to learn if we're going to fight this creature."

_"On that, we can_ agree."


	33. Thunder and Lightning

**A/N: Hey all, back with another chapter here. Hoping I can keep the ball rolling, I haven't had a lot of free time like this before so it's nice being able to pump some good chapters out especially since I'm enjoying writing this Trial quite a bit. Now I'm sure no one really cares, but the monster from last chapter _is _based somewhat on a real monster in mythology. Of course I've taken liberties with it, but let's be real even Rick has to since going word for word on some monsters just doesn't work all the time in a story. Anyways enjoy the chapter, we'll be close to wrapping it up in this one.**

* * *

Samson soars high in the air, watching the shadowy mass lazily flying across decaying parts of the strange world it inhabits. He's been watching it for who knows how long now and still he hasn't gotten any closer to understanding what the thing is or how it can possibly be defeated. The presence just floats from place to place, occasionally slipping into memory cracks only to come out a minute later before going on with its day.

The otherworld seems to be in a constant state of dusk without any actual star lighting up the sky. Stars are sprinkled completely surrounding everything, further pointing out there's no sense of up or down truly in a place like this. Looking carefully Samson can see the signs of the zodiac and other constellations repeated more than once across the sky.

More time that he spends here the more Samson doesn't understand. Gravity works directionally to the landmass you're on and can change if another is at an angle, yet Samson can fly through the air no issue despite flying past several islands and not once feeling their gravitational pull. The most he can hypothesize is that gravity works, really, as your mind can process it.

If that doesn't make sense then don't think about it as this place has no real sense of anything in anyway a person would know.

_"Do you think we should dip into some of these memories? Perhaps we can find out something in one of them."_

A good enough idea. At least it's something different from watching a weird monster fly around for hours on end. He picks the closest crackling portal to him and flies straight in, hoping it'll have something worthwhile to learn from

* * *

Auntie Mori. Will not. SHUT THE FUCK UP. He opens up with her _once _and she started talking for hours and hours about everyone and their whole life story. At first it started with her casually talking about his father and some of the adventures he went on with her and Samson when they were young. She even had a few stories about his grandfather, though those were never funny or happy. He sort of got the impression of it, but she was proof positive that his dad and _his _dad were quite at odds.

"Did he ever have siblings?"

"Hmm?" Mori stops her current tangent, "Oh... I guess Max never really got over it, but his older brother died fighting in the Korean war. I never met him and Max never talked about it more than a handful of times, but he was really shaken up by it. Robert was only around when Max was young, but he really was the one who shaped Max into the man he grew to be. I wish I could've met him, the few times Max talked about him were nothing but praise."

Samuel groans and looks back up at the ceiling as he seems to be doing quite a lot recently.

Gods, if only any of the 'family' he has now would be cool like Robert apparently was. Don't get him wrong, he loves his mom and all of his _demigod _siblings, but besides Ponos all of his godly or monster siblings really are just a bunch of assholes. Listening to Auntie Mori's stories makes him wish he had more immediate family in his life, or at least when he was young. All of his old friends from back during the wars helped the feeling a lot when he was young, but most have died or gone on with their lives by now.

As shitty as it is, when demigods get old it becomes dangerous to be in groups together. By then they have family, and the more demigods in one place the more their scents will attract greater and stronger monsters. Their families are at risk, and as much as they love their friends being around them becomes dangerous. A liability. Samuel's lucky he can afford to put in proper protections at his home but that's never a guarantee. Hell, even Camp Half Blood isn't completely safe.

What he's saying is that most of the 'good times' a demigod was is when they're young, and that's not something he got to have.

"-eah Thomas some how managed to knockup _all _of the Hesperides while we were fuckin in the garden. Don't ask me how he managed it, because I'm pretty certain it's impossible."

Oh for the love of-

"For gods sake, Mori, there's a trillion nerves in the human body and you've managed to trigger every one mine! Shut the fuck up for a minute and just be quiet!"

She's quiet for a second. Literally. She paused, then started chatting again completely unperturbed by his outburst.

"Anyways, we got chased out of the garden by the nymphs, but we did get a good photo of us dickin' with Atlas. You should've seen the look on his face, he was so _mad!_ Thinking about it he might've caused an earthquake since after we left there was a devastating one that hit the area. Whoopsies. Anyways Eris is such a _freak_! In a good way, though! Oh lords have you seen-!"

Samuel kinda fazes out mentally at this point. Getting snappy at his auntie doesn't really seem to work with getting her to fuck off. If anything it seems to make it worse! He goes numb listening to her ramble on about another story, and even though he will _never _admit it a small part of him does like listening to her tales. He doesn't know how to explain it other than, maybe, it feels kinda nice?

* * *

_"Lord Hyperion the daemons are acting out! Several have escaped from Tartarus and are wreaking havoc on the lands!"_

Beneath the Lord of the East's feet trembles an assortment of monsters and spirits, most of which Samson has never seen before, further proving that this memory is so old even his extensive knowledge of monster types is insufficient. The Titan resides in a massive and immaculately carved throne fifty feet high and made from a kind of shimmering mineral he's never seen before. As though sunlight itself has been embedded into marble. Around the throne is a massive hall like an arena, statues and carvings so beautiful Annabeth would probably have a seizure cover every wall with stories and tales lost to history and war.

The Son of Athena feels sadness at the thought of so much history being lost in the war of Gods and Titans. It makes him feel like hunting down Prometheus to try and see of the Titan would be willing to write down any of the lost tales, but quickly pushes the though away as he looks up at the tower that is Hyperion, the Titan Lord of the East.

His skin is like shimmering pennies, his muscles are _huge _and power radiates almost literally from them, his armor is like enchanted Imperial Gold only the power radiating from it is something far older an more powerful than any magic achievable even by the likes of Hecate. Like his throne, Hyperion is massive, sitting only just shorter than his throne with his arms crossed and likely a scowl on his face if his mannerisms is anything to go on, though it being hard to tell as his eyes blast light like small stars.

Samson thanks all the gods he can name that persons in memories can't see him, and his interference with physical objects seems more like it makes a clone for him to manipulate while leaving the original copy completely undisturbed. It turns out Abigail's hypothesis was correct, this is a memory only, the only affect they have is being able to take copies of objects from them and take them with back into the distorted world. Which means he totally could yoink something _very _valuable and powerful from a memory and use it to try and fight the entity.

_**"Grrr-" **_Hyperion growls, his voice so powerful the very ground quakes like the marching of Typhon, **"Wretched Cacodemons! They lay waste to my lands and dare to attack me at every hour of the day! Fools, weaklings, wretches! My Sunlight is much too powerful for creatures born from shadows! Ready my chariot! I shall smite these heathens personally! I will wipe their essence so thoroughly they'll never be able to reform again!"**

The mighty Titan stands from his throne and marches down the humongous hall he crafted to house it. Disappearing around a corner at the end of the wall, his footsteps still shakes the floor even after leaving the room. Samson sighs and comes out from behind the pillar he was totally not cowering behind. The gaggle of monsters and spirits stayed behind, discussing something silently between themselves.

Samson steps closer and listens in on their conversation, hoping to divine something useful from them.

_"He's becoming weaker, can you sense it?"_

_"QUIET! Not so loud! Our Lord of Sunlight is still mighty regardless. We've hear whispers of a rebellion, creatures born from the Crooked One himself are amassing a mighty army under a young deity wielding thunder and lightning."_

_"Truly? Must be the work of the Cyclopes, only they could craft lightning that powerful."_

_"I've heard they've gone to their side, along with the Hekatonkheires. I truly believe this rebellion might be the one to topple the Titans!"_

_"Then we must do our part. Cast the Lord of Sunlight into darkness. The more demons we release into the world the weaker he becomes. They spread their negativity and suck away all the power of the sunlight."_

_"But you heard what he said! He's going to kill all of them for good! How can they possibly be useful if they're dead?!"_

_"Have faith! The greatest of the Cacodemons was cast into a void long ago by the Crooked One as he was disgusted by its appearance. It will stay safe in the other world, and should we require we must simply release it from its cage."_

Suddenly the very ground quakes, a loud boom like a bomb going off in your ear pointblank rips through the halls of Hyperion's castle and a blast of wind rocks the stone walls so hard several topple over. The monsters and spirits cower as the very roof nearly a hundred feet high in the air is violently blasted off by a flash of bright light. Samson cowers as an overbearing presence like the fiercest storm crashes down on his shoulders. A familiar presence so horrible and familiar that the last time he felt something similar was when... his mother... killed him to save him from **Zeus**. Oh no...

The wind knocks him down and throws him about the room until he manages to grab a pillar and hold on for dear life as a tempest like a hurricane violently spins in the sky over the missing roof.

All of the other inhabitants are sucked up into the squall with their screams inaudible over the raging winds. Samson watches in awe and horror as a young figure appears in the center point of the swirling winds. His eyes flash in tandem with the lightning raging around him, and in his hand is the most famous weapon in history. It charges to life with wicked, crackling electricity, promising complete destruction to whomever its wrath is unleashed upon.

The Young Zeus pulls his _Master Bolt _back and hurtles its fierce lightning down directly at Hyperion's throne. The explosion is so fierce, so violent and explosive even the memory of the energy threatens to pull Samson apart into tiny particles that even a god might not reform from. He cries out in shock as the blast launches him backwards, and as his back collides with the farthest wall suddenly the intensity and sound and fear is all gone.

Samson looks around, heart still racing, and finds that he's out of the memory and back in the distorted world. For several seconds he looks around, still paranoid Zeus will pop around the corner somewhere with another lightning bolt, but his analytical mind works quickly and the intense anxiety is pushed away and his beating heart is calmed to a still once again.

He picks a nice small island and flies own to it, practically crashing into the grass and just lying there silently for a good hour it seems before flipping over onto his back and running his hands across his face.

"Holy shit," He says, exhausted, "Just the memory of his weapon was strong enough to literally blow us into another dimension... He was going to use that on _me _if mother hadn't killed me. I-I-I... I owe her a lot. That was the most _terrible _experience I've ever had, and it was not even a thousandth close to the real thing!"

He lies there silently for several minutes longer. Abigail speaks up, though her voice almost quavering from the intense emotions coursing through her mind. Seeing the horrible image of her father in the flesh again almost sent her into a panic. She's grateful she learned stoicism from Artemis, otherwise she might've broken down right then and there.

_"You heard what those creatures were talking about, right? A Cacodemon being locked in another world, and how Sunlight was the key to defeating it?"_

"..." It takes Samson a while to muster the strength to respond, "...Yeah...Yeah! Shadow's weakness is light, which means we can _fight _it! I know a powerful spell to summon Sunlight, which means we've held the key to victory all along!"

_"You sound a lot like Athena there. She would totally say something like that; You've held the key to victory all along."_

A small smile creeps its way onto Samson's face. A thorough sense of resolve and confidence surges through his very being as he pushes himself to stand on his feet. He looks out across the warped, decaying masses of land floating across the cursed world and clenches his fists, readying his mind for a fight the likes of which he's never faced before.

With just a thought, his wings push off the ground and launch him into the air. His eyes gleam with the intensity of a predator on the hunt. Samson flies through the air and scours every crack and crevice he can comes across until he finds the now named Cacodemon and kills it! His mother believes in him, and he'll show her why Samson Akira isn't a person you try and kill without facing the consequences of it!


	34. Great Granddaddy Sucks

**A/N: Hey all, back with another chapter, and a finale at that! We're wrapping up Samson's story this chapter. I've actually really liked writing this one, the whole inception dream memory shit is really fun, and writing about ye old antiquated times is pretty fun even if they're just small cameos about past events. Plus, writing just a teeny bit about the first Titan war was pretty fun. RIP those monsters that Zeus killed who were totally on his side. Oh well, when it comes to the Gods people dying isn't really that big of a deal. Enjoy the wrapup.**

* * *

Mistakes have been made, Samson isn't too proud to admit that. He learned the way to fight the cacodemon, and for the first few moments of ambushing the creature with his Sunburst spell worked out pretty good. Well, that only lasted for a few moments as the smoky demon reacted with such violent force Samson felt himself starting to fucking _panic._

The demon fought back with much ferocity and desperation. It grabbed chunks of floating debris and launched it like cannon balls. It grabbed Samson and smashed him into small islands over and over until the very floating landmass it broken into chunks before it throws Samson away like garbage. And the whole time the demon did not stop its attack one bit. Every second it hounded Samson with more and more violent beatings, never giving him a chance to even get his bearings before attacking him once again.

Samson felt like the brutal beating went on for hours, when in reality it was only a couple of minutes. With a brief second of pause before another beat down, Samson throws his hands out and summons the biggest blast of light he can muster in his damaged state. The shadowy cacodemon hisses and shrieks in pain from the blinding light and retreats away, flying at blinding speeds and disappearing somewhere far off in the horizon. Samson collapses down on the destroyed island he crashed to and gasps and pants from exhaustion and pain.

He lies there still for several long minutes, Ram in his pocket slowly starts healing his surely broken bones and soothing his sore and bruised body. The only reason he wasn't smashed into mush is entirely because he has a godly body, and even then he feels like the demon could've throttled him to bits if left to it, and Samson would've been completely at its mercy!

Yeah, he really fucked up being confident like that. Never. _again._

_"So... that could've gone better."_

You think?!

_"Oh don't give me that sass! I didn't think it would be that strong either so don't get snappy! You spooked it off with your light but clearly that's not enough. Hyperion likely lost some of his power killing the other demons, and that was back when he was at his height. We need a weapon, something that has the power to kill this monster without us having to sacrifice our own already minuscule strength. I say we hop through some memories and see if we can find something strong. Personally I'd like for us to snag a copy of the Master Bolt. No way in Hades that wouldn't kill this thing no problem if the memory of its power was strong enough to knock us into another dimension!"_

Yeah, makes sense. Clearly taking this creature on by themselves was a _very _big mistake, and once again Samson finds himself being punished for his pride. Whether this is the work of the Fates or just happenstance he does not know. All that he does know is that he tends to get his ass kicked when he gets prideful and full of himself.

Damn.

Thankfully his wings were damaged during the fight as he folded them back into the pack, and Daedalus was smart enough to use celestial bronze as the actual casing. He unfolds the wings and pumps off the ground, controlling his emotions to hide himself from the Cacodemon and sets off in search of another memory portal. He found one and quickly dived in, praying whatever memory he ends up in has something useful as a weapon.

* * *

As it turns out, Samson's bad luck turned into something worse than bad really fast. Horrible luck? Terrible luck? God forsaken and cursed by the Devil luck? Maybe those aren't strong enough to describe the place he ended up in because _fuck _this is a fucked memory.

Here, standing, bleeding, dying on a torn asunder Olympus is Percy looking like he's about to die, Annabeth fucking _bleeding out _on the goddamn floor, and the Goddamn Titan Lord in the body of a misbegotten demigod himself. He wasn't around for these events, but talking with the people who _were _then this was one of the greatest, most terrible moments of the Second Titan War. The moment hope was almost destroyed completely, but also the moment everyone really lost a piece of themselves.

Kronos faces down Percy as he drops someone Samson doesn't know down a massive fissure to his certain death. The wind howls cruelly, a presence of the utmost evil permeates the entire divine mountain and the massive, toothy sneer of the Titan Lord is almost too much. Samson feels like collapsing and wallowing in suffering, and it's only thanks to the natural anti-enchanting properties of his divinely-imbued Jacket that keeps him from giving up hope.

How Percy, Annabeth and Grover were able to face the Titan Lord and not shit and piss themselves in fear he doesn't know as he's a half second away from doing to himself right now.

The sheer evil is just so indescribable, not just from the presence of Kronos but from the situation playing out before him. He so desperately wants to join and fight, anything to help the desperation of the situation, but he can't. This is just a memory, something that's already come and passed. All he can do is watch and try and find hollow comfort in the knowledge that things worked out in the end.

He hopes, at least. Basically the same shit happens again like maybe a year later with the Giants.

**"It's too late, Percy Jackson," **The Titan Lord says with utter surety. His voice is strong, booming like the loudest speaker and filled with a disgusting amount of confidence, **"Behold."**

He points at a hearth nearby, and for several seconds nothing happens. Suddenly, everything just stops. Literally. Sound, the wind, Percy, Annabeth and Grover, even the burning of the coals. Time has frozen, but for whatever reason Samson can still move like everything is normal. His eyes lock onto the back of the Titan-possessed Boys head and feels his blood turn to ice as the eerie glow emanating from his eyes turn slowly. The harsh, burning eyes turn and meet his directly, leaving no doubt in his mind that Kronos is looking at _Samson._

His grin turns to a sneer of sheer annoyance. The Titan turns and points his sword at Samson, turning the blade into a bone chilling Scythe filled with nothing but chaos and the promise of a painful death.

Samson gulps nervously and reaches into his pocket, slowly taking his condensed Spear from his pocket just in case this memory of Kronos somehow attacks Samson. His mind races, trying to figure out how the Titan Lord is aware of his presence. This is only a memory, so why is it that the Crooked One is clearly aware of Samson being here!

Suddenly, a pit forms in his stomach and he feels sweat start rolling down his face, it's finally clicked. This world was created from the destruction of Kronos, his very essence imprinted into this world, and here is a memory of that power, a coalition of it trapped as a memory until _something _new comes to interrupt the natural trap. And that something is Samson.

Oh no, he's fucked up _bad. _He's made the memory **aware!**.

**"And who is this? A newcomer? Not someone I'm familiar with. No matter, you'll not disrupt my victory, _minor god!_"**

In a blink of an eye the Titan Lord is on him, slashing his scythe in a big arc hoping to sever his head. Samson barely manages to duck the attack and jump back with the support of his wings giving him a greater jump. Samson's full on panicking as he fumbles to bring his Dragonslayer Spear out just in time to block another, devastating blow from the scythe.

His arms burn with exertion as he pushes back from the sheer might of the Titan Lord. Even limited to a demigod body Kronos' might is like Atlas or Hercules. So unbelievably overpowering that even having the body of a god is barely enough to _parry _an attack. Samson has no chance at all of a full on block, it would likely break his arms off if he tried!

He parries another fairly sloppy blow and follows through with a repost only to watch in horror as it bounces off his shoulder like lead. He curses and jumps back from a follow up swipe, sweat pouring down his face as he searches for the telltale glow of an object indicating the exit from this awful memory!

**"Curious. You're not some skill-less deity after all. Even my powers seem to have no effect! Well done, enchanter! Few can accomplish a counter to my power, but it matters not. I am **_**indestructible. **_**Nothing you can do will harm me, and in a matter of moments I shall be created anew, full of my glory in all its might! Surrender to your fate now and make this easy. I've still a duel to attend to and that _brat _must feel despair before I kill him for good!"**

Samson's eyes dart about the trashed throne room, and there lying by the bloody Annabeth is a faintly shimmering dagger. Upon seeing it he points his hand at the Crooked One and quickly flashes a bright beam of Sunlight into his face. Kronos hisses and covers his eyes from the blinding light, and instantly he _bolts _past the Titan and breaks for the dagger.

Just before he reaches Annabeth, a chill runs down his spine and he ducks his head just barely in time to dodge the cold, biting metal of the scythe. It takes off the ends of his air, and even just the touch of it sends a bolt of cold, crackling misery coursing through his body.

He comes to a slide just passed Annabeth's form, and just opposite of her is the grinning lord of the Titans. He holds his cruel scythe in one hand and idly taps it against his other palm, casually waiting for Samson to make another move. Despite being casual, Samson gets the feeling the next attack will absolutely be the one Kronos intends to kill him with.

_"Samson! We have to get that dagger at all costs! The more time that passes the stronger he gets! Once we leave the memory will reset like this never happened, but we have to **get out!**"_

Samson looks at the dagger lying by Annabeth. It's barely ten feet away from him, and ten feet beyond that is Kronos grinning at him, not moving but even then Samson knows the deception of his speed. He can move as fast as the blink of an eye. If he's going to have any chance of getting that dagger, he needs to bait Kronos into attacking the way _he wants too._

With a foolishly idiotic plan in mind, Samson adopts a sprinter's stance and opens his wings into a position ready to give him a tremendous boost of speed. It takes a second for objects to kick Samson out of a memory, so when he gets that dagger he's going to end up _right _in the Titan's attack, and likely kill range.

Mind set and readied, Samson enacts his plan. He pushes off the ground and pumps his wings, launching him like a spear directly at Kronos. Just as he flies over Annabeth he reaches out and snatches the dagger! Then, a piercing, shrill cry escapes from his lips as the tip of Kronos' Scythe pierces directly through Samson's supposedly indestructible jacket. His golden Ichor leaks from the wound, spilling beneath his feet as weight like the sky crashes down upon him. In a flash his free hand shoots up and grabs the pole of the Scythe, using all of his quickly waning might to prevent the blade from sliding in any deeper into his shoulder.

Slowly his vision goes white, and Samson can only hope that it's because he's leaving the memory and not because he's being killed by the power channeling through the immortal-killing scythe.

Everything goes blank, and Samson worries this really is the end for him.

* * *

His eyes shoot open, a startled gasp escapes from his lips as Samson feels the wind flowing around him. The wind is knocked from his lungs as his body collides with a flat patch of island, and for several long minutes he can only stare wide eyed into the constellation filled sky as his body recovers from the shock and pain of such an unbelievably awful experience, even if it was only a minute or so.

The wound he received from Kronos is very much real, and for a second Samson worries the legends of the Scythe's ability to prevent healing is true, but just in time the magic born from the Golden Fleece washes over the wound, clearing out the corrupting influence of the weapon and slowly sealing the wound. Knowing how the Scythe is a special weapon, Samson guesses he's going to forever have a scar on his left shoulder that even with the purification of the fleece will still have problems likely for all of his eternal life.

Something heavy lands to a thud in the ground next to him, and Samson feels his eyes widen as he turns to look and sees the Scythe of the Titan Kronos laying quietly in the grass next to him. A primal part of his soul worries the weapon is going to come to life and start slashing at him again, but he pushes the illogical worries from his mind and pushes himself onto his knees with his good arm, almost collapsing forward as it buckles.

He curses at his exhausted, likely fractured 'good' arm, but fights through the pain and crawls towards the Scythe. He grabs it, feeling a disgusting feeling rolling around in his stomach as he does, and pushes himself to stand with it.

Samson leans against his makeshift cane and pants in a mixture of pain and exhaustion as he waits for the Cacodemon to appear. He's certain that it will. After all, what better time to kill your prey than when it's weak and exhausted? Unfortunate for it, he's armed with something Samson is absolutely certain will kill the emon for good.

_"It's no Master Bolt, but Kronos' Scythe will fuck the demon up quickly. Look, here it comes."_

He looks up in the air and watches blandly as a shadowy mass appears over the edge of a high flying island. It races towards him, shadows bulging and swirling amongst the mass as it races towards him with an awful, ear splitting scream. Sighing, Samson beats his wings and flies up to meet the demon. One arm limp to his side, Samson uses his sore arm to swing the Scythe up, and just as the shadows reach him he throws his arm down.

The sound the shrieks from the demon is nigh indescribable. The pain, torment and suffering is something no words can explain, only a person there can truly describe how terrible the sound. The shadows part before the Scythe, and to Samson's surprise they start to burn away. Not giving any pause, Samson swings the weapon again, electing another scream.

More and more cuts and slashes cause more and more of the demon to burn away into nothingness. Now barely bigger than a soccer ball, the remaining mass of the demon pulses slowly like a weak heart as it floats lazily in the air. Samson raises the Scyte again for the killing blow and he watches sadly as the demon seems to quiver before him. It cowers, the pulses in the heart beating more rapidly but only just barely. Feeling slightly bad, Samson brings the blade down and finishes it off for good. The last of the demon burns away, just as the last of Samson's strength leaves his body.

The Scythe drops from his hand, and the wings stop beating as his eyes roll into the back of his head and unconsciousness takes him.

* * *

Samson groans as he slowly blinks his eyes open. His vision returns to him, and looking around Samson finds himself lying on the floor in the center of a familiar temple. He sighs and pushes himself upright, wincing from the pain flaring in his shoulder. He cups it instinctively and is surprised when he feels bandage fabric underneath his shirt. His jacket is gone, but he finds himself more relieved to be safe than worried about his missing jacket.

"You've done well, Samson." His Mother's voice distracts him from his mild distress. He turns and looks at her as she approaches, donned in her 'fancy' regalia she always wears on Olympus. She comes to his side and offers him a hand to help him stand. He takes it, almost tumbling from his wobbly legs but control returns quickly and he stands on his own.

Athena hands him his jacket, and just glancing he can see that she's sealed the cut in the fabric. He looks at the jacket in confusion, wondering how she was able to sow almost indestructible fabric back together.

"I'm quite surprised. I never thought you'd come across a blade capable of parting the fabric. No matter, I _am _the Goddess of Weaving, it was simple reattaching the fibers back together again. I felt the destruction of the entity and went to pull you from that horrible world, and too my surprise I pull you out bloodied and wreaking of your Great Grandfather's evil. I do not know what you experienced in that realm but know that I am _proud _you faced such evil victoriously."

Samson looks down at his feet silently, not reacting like he usually would to Athena's praise. She watches him carefully and tilts her head to the side.

"Samson?" She says carefully. In a flash she's taken aback in disgust as he wraps his arms around her. She almost summons her spear to stab him instinctively, but remembers quickly that 'hugs' are something many use as a sign of affection. Stiffly and awkwardly, she brings her arms down and half pats, half hugs her near weeping son.

"Mother... I saw a memory of Zeus's wrath in that world. You _saved _me from such an awful, horrible fate. I've always held a small amount of despise for you, but knowing what you saved me from I have so much more love and respect for you now. Mom... _thank you._"

Athena doesn't respond, but deep in her heart a small piece of her is glad that her son appreciates what she sacrificed for his safety. Not that she'll tell _anyone _that, she has her pride after all. But still, she supposes that it's (_nice?) _acceptable to be held so highly by her favorite son.

The two of them stay like that for a long time, and though most would think the scene is awkward, to the mother and son this is the closest they've ever been, and they both find pleasantness in one another's awkward embrace.


	35. The Boys Go to Japan

**A/N: Phew I'm back once again. You guys can probably see that my schedule at my job tens to go; A few days off, then almost a week of work before the next set of time off. Yeah, it kinda sucks but whatever. Now I'm back with some chapters, and once again I'm excited for the next set of trials. This one is something Truehero and I have been going back and forth on for a while, so hopefully it's an exciting one. Just a warning, this is going to be a shorter chapter today, I'm not really feeling like a longer chapter and this one doesn't need to be that long in the first place. My chapters get shorter and shorter, but if that's what it takes to keep writing this story then so be it.**

* * *

_"Three cheers for Hercules!"_

"...I don't like this movie."

"SHUSH!"

Samson continues watching the movie, initially excited but then slowly lost interest as more and more discrepancies with history and the movie began piling up. He's nintey-nine percent sure Phil is supposed to be Chiron, which makes it even worse because he's named after a Hero that fought at Troy _and _he's a Satyr in the film.

What the fuck, Disney?! Did you not read Wikipedia or something?

"Megara is supposed to be dead, and by this point he becomes a god, who the fuck wrote this?"

Samuel stands up from his seat, rips the armrest off and throws it in Samson's direction. Samson ducks under the projectile and gives Samuel a 'what the fuck' look, only the Son of Eris can't see as his in-home movie theater is darkened as tradition. Which makes it all the more impressive Samuel's accuracy in the dark with only the screen as light, "Shut the fuck up and watch the movie!"

He sits back down and crosses his arms angrily. Hylla passes him her tub of popcorn and his mood instantly turns positive from the gift. Perry and Sarah sit further up on the highest isles below the projector and watch Samuel rip through his popcorn like a starving alley cat.

"Wow, look at him."

"I know," Sarah agrees as she reaches into the pretzel box on his lap, 'purposefully' missing and pawing dangerously close to something else. He snatches her wrist and returns it back to her person, ignoring the grin she shoots him. He rolls his eyes at her antics and goes back to examining Samuel.

"Gods, it's like watching a Hellhound tear into a bag of dry dog food. Just nothing but primal, carnal desire and savagery."

Samuel stands again, handing his food to Hylla and rips off the other armrest and points it at Perry and Sarah like it's his sword, threatening them with his not-so-deadly weapon.

"HEY! Shut your _fucking_ traps, I'm trying to watch Disney!"

Perry gives Sarah a quick smirk and yells out down the aisles, "Sit down, asshole! We're trying to watch a movie!"

He ducks under the armrest as Samuel throws it and flinches as it collides with the projector with a loud _crash_, sending sparks and shards of glass raining down the theater occupants. The movie on the screen flickers and dies out, electing a series of groans from all of the movie goers.

"Nice Job, Samuel!" Hylla chides, half joking and half serious. Movie projectors aren't cheap, and even if she's rich she's not keen on having to buy another one.

Samuel turns to the screen with a sad look in his eyes as the lights slowly turn back on. All of the Amazons, demigods and immortals slowly stand and start towards the theater exit. Hylla sees a large, ugly looking man groaning and half limping along with everyone as they head out. She didn't see him enter the theater, and he was never around the mansion in the first place!

She tugs Samuel's sleeve and points him out, "Samuel, I think a homeless guy snuck in again. Can you get this one? I've got a.. stomach flu or something."

He groans and reaches under his seat, pulling out a hidden cattle prod and slowly moves to the man, making shooing motions with his hand at him.

"Alright, go on, get outa here. It's not a place for homeless anymore."

The man gives Samuel an offended look, "The fuck you saying homeless for? I'm the bleeding God of Forging. Damn kids not giving me no respect! Meet me in the fuckin' kitchen, it's gonna be a second to explain what yer' next trial is and I'm hungry."

Samuel groans and follows behind him, tossing the prod into an empty seat, Samson following just behind him.

* * *

Samson taps his foot on the ground nervously as they wait for Hephaestus to finish tinkering with some small, metal contraption in his grimy, almost stone-like hands. He's not particularly worried about getting some horrible curse like Aphrodite or Hera or something, but he _does _have a history with Hephaestus even if it's entirely indirect.

Many decades ago, Samson snuck into Hephaestus' temple and stole a book from his library for his mother, Athena. He wasn't caught, at least not by the Forge God and his wife, but he _was _caught by Ares. Of course, the War God didn't care and certainly wouldn't tell his rival someone was stealing shit from his temple. He hopes. Samson can easily see Ares bragging about Hephaestus' temple being robbed and refusing to tell him by who.

On top of that, Samson out-forged all of the Hephaestus children when he was a demigod and invented many enchanted tools and weapons beyond what they could do. He's certain they complained to their father, who in turn likely didn't appreciate his children being outdone by the son of a Goddess wholly unrelated to anything technological of magical.

Hephaestus sets the contraption down on the table and clicks a button on the side. Suddenly flaps on the top open up, and a sound similar to a printer starts as slowly a coffee cup filled with dark, grainy coffer rises from the opening. After a second a full cup of coffee was printed from the device, ready for the Forge God to slurp up.

He takes the cup and throws the whole damn cup back, completely unfazed by the heat. The Sam's can only watch dumbfounded as Hephaestus tosses the coffee maker over his shoulder before he folds his hands together on the table.

"Alright," He says gruffly, like his voice is an old, hardy machine, "My 'Trial' is simple. If it were up to me I'd let you go with something simple, I don't much care for demigods and their quests, but dear old Dad wants something spectacular and trying. Believe it or not, I _do _need your help with something, unlike most of the others."

He fishes a book from his tool belt and slaps it down on the table. He flips open the book and shows that over half of the pages have been ripped out. The pages that are left are filled with writing of some kind that neither of the Sam's can read.

"A while ago one of me boys snatched some diagrams from this book here. I wasn't bothered since he was a good kid, but he was kidnapped and killed by some bad folk. They stole the diagrams from me and took of to some old industrial complex in Japan. There wasn't no weapons and whatnot in here, but it did contain the blueprints for advanced smelters that make some nasty, powerful metals. These kinds of things can't be in mortal hands, the energy drives non-immortals crazy, and the metals are stronger than non-infused Celestial Bronze. It's meant for gods only, and these fools been festering in it for years. I need you to go to their base and destroy it completely. Nothing of those smelters can survive. Do this and I'll see to it you're done with this trial."

The Sam's turn to look at each other, shrug and turn back to the Olympian, "Where exactly in Japan are we going?"

Hephaestus shrugs, "No clue, the isles are out of my territory. For this, you've got to find out yourself. Maybe try that Perry fellow, he's got a good head on his shoulders despite being born from my ditz of a wife. Plus, he looks like one of them 'weebs' I've been hearing about. Good luck, boys, and Samson?"

Samson gulps nervously, Hephaestus grins continues, "You still owe me something after this. I've got cameras in my Temple see."

He snaps his fingers, and the Olympian disappears in a flash of light. Samson drops his head down on the table with a thud and groans sadly. Samuel just watches for a second before asking, "What's with you? The hell did you do to piss him off?"

"I stole shit from his temple," He finally croaks out. Samuel snorts and gets out of his chair, calling over his shoulder as he leaves to grab his gear, "Sucks to be you, asshole! This time, I'm _not _on the shitlist!"

Samson just sighs pathetically and waits for a while as Samuel heads out for his gear and to figure out a means of travel to the Land of the Rising sun.

_"Well, look on the bright side," _Abigail says in his mind, _"Maybe we can figure out why your dad hated his home country so much."_

Well, Samson supposes that can be a positive thing at least. Maybe he even has extended family still living to this day? After all, some of the only things Samson knew about his father's personal life was that he hates Japan, that he was an engineer, and that he was once married long before Samson was born.

Maybe, just maybe, he can figure out something meaningful about his late father.


	36. Tourist Capitalism is Universal

**A/N: Okay, chapter time. Not much to say about the chapter really. It's been cold as hell where I'm at, and the snow mas basically been falling from the sky nonstop burying everything and making the roads a nightmare. Not because the roads are bad, but because the people driving on them come from California where they have literally no idea what to do. Ugh, enough of that, though, there's a chapter to write!**

* * *

Samuel watches the beautiful horizon gently passing by as the deck of the small, hauling vessel bobs gently across the ocean waves. Or so he wishes. In actuality he can only tell the boat is moving because the fucking Captain _barrels_ through wave after wave at break neck speeds like a lunatic! He'd be inside the actual passenger quarters if they didn't smell like rust and mold, so he finds himself holding on the railing up on the top deck, or whatever the fuck it's called, because ocean water somehow smells nicer than the inside of the ship!

He wanted to fly, but seeing how last time good ol' Zeus hit their plane with a baby blast of lightning both him and Samson agreed it's better to take a boat. Poseidon is a cool dude and doesn't care if those of other gods travel across his domain. He'c just cool like that! Unfortunately Samson's little Gal' Boat decided to run drugs for a crimelord somewhere in Europe, so that leaves them basically unusable until they come back or get chased out by some European navy. And because he's on a boat ran by a mortal, Samson's girl's aren't there to use their powers to make the ride smooth and somewhat comfortable

Fuckin A, dude.

Instead they had to hitch a ride with a local small time cargo captain that gets paid extra for arriving early with shipments, and seeing how he plans on getting there in less than a week and the distance is over five-thousand and three hundred miles, they're making distance _fast. _Only a few days longer than the world goddamn record for the same journey!

So yeah, the ride is as about as nice as you think it would be.

The boat rocks up on a high wave and Samuel braces and grips the railing with all of his strength as the boat basically skateboards up and drops down back onto the water with a heavy crash. Samuel feels the shock go right up his legs and into his special area. He wheezes like an old man as he barely holds himself upright on the railing, cursing a storm as Samson slowly inches his way across the deck to his side.

"Damn," He says, gripping onto the railing next to Samuel, "This dude isn't joking around, is he?"

Samuel only heaves in response.

He points to a faint shape far out in the horizon, "Look, I can see the coast. We should be there in a few hours now."

"Thank the Gods!" Samuel practically shouts, finally catching his breath, "I can't wait to get off this stupid boat!"

The pain finally passes and Samuel inhales deeply, catching his breath fully and standing to his full height. He looks out at the mainland, watching it slowly growing larger as the distance shortens. It's an odd moment of peace despite everything, but peace isn't something destined for him. They've still got a job to do.

"What's our plan for this 'factory' Perry dug information up on?"

"We're looking for Hashima island," Samson explains, "It's an abandoned coal mining facility off the coast of Nagasaki. Perry got us a location and that's about it. Everything else about the actual facility itself is entirely hearsay. Interrogated monsters say it exists, and have been for years. It's unregistered in any private records, godly and mortal alike. They must be using a tremendously powerful amount of Mist to hide it since the island is well traveled for tourism. Smart. They can easily bring their men in and out with the crowds, and since the waters are not patrolled bringing supplies in for metal working is simple. I don't doubt they're reusing many of the equipment that was abandoned."

Samuel pulls his face into a grimace at the thought of the group running the facility. Whomever they are are smart, craft, resourceful and most dangerously of all well in place. Basically an entire island as a fortress with who knows how many weapons and defenses in place, not including staff and security that surely make up a huge population of defense on the island.

"I don't like this. This whole thing feels like a cheap horror movie."

"Well, you're not wrong," Samson agrees, "The island reportedly had up to a thousand deaths, and from what I've gathered is also haunted. I'm sure our friends making illegal metals are the culprits, but this _is _an island out of our parents' territory. Who's to say it isn't actually haunted?"

"Hmm. We'll get a hotel when we land, a nice one. They have good security. After that, well, I think it's important to understand our surroundings, don't you? To, uh, _understand _the culture of our enemies land."

Samson smirks, "I mean, we're in Japan after all. Why not enjoy it while we can?"

* * *

Samuel whistles in appreciation as they walk down a crowded tourist street of some sort. Stalls and shops are set up all across the way. Knick knacks, iconic and unknown treats, sweets and street food cover every inch it seems. Buildings are decorated with traditional and stereotypical Japanese iconography of all kinds. Just walking down the streets is a blast, reminding Samuel of the popular areas around Boston and New York. Lots of flashy, pretty colors to entice you to walk up and buy something. Standard human manipulation, predictable even.

And Samuel is a sucker for it.

"Do you need all of that... junk?" Samson asks, watching with his hands in his pockets as Samuel buys a golden Lucky Cat and stuffs it in the large duffle bag he bought from the first store along the Tourist walk. "You can buy all of that stuff from Amazon."

"Mind you're own business," He yells back, "It's the principle that counts! Besides, shouldn't _you _be all about this stuff? Isn't this your dad's culture?"

Samson's face scrunches like he just licked a lemon, "Sort of? My father absolutely hated anything Japanese. The only thing he kept from Japan was his family's armor and sword, and even then we used the armor as a coat rack. At least I have the sword still. Almost got it battle ready again, too. He didn't even speak Japanese to me, I had to learn it on my own after he died! Listen, I hope you don't mind the distraction, but I was hoping to head over to the Registry and see if I can find anything on my father."

He looks away, a brief flash of something akin to hurt shining in his eyes, "I know next to nothing about my father before he moved to America other than that he came here before they entered the War in the Pacific. I don't know... I'd just like to see if I can figure out why it is he hated Japan so much."

Samuel glaces at him in the corner of his eye for a second before continuing forward on along the walk, "Hey, if it's a distraction I don't care. I'm gonna be busy hanging around here, but you can fuck off and do whatever you want for all I care. Just make sure you're back in the hotel by tomorrow morning, we've gotta scout out the island while it's bust so we can blend in."

He continues walking away while a thought suddenly appears in Samson's mind.

"Hey, you don't happen to speak Japanese, do you?"

Instantly Samuel stops, the Son of Eris realizing that, in fact, he does not.

A few bus, train and taxi trips later Samuel and Samson managed to find the registry records office. Since Samson's father died years ago and the old government during his time was reorganized, records from that time were made completely public even for former government workers. All Samson had to do was give his name and relation, and in due time the counter woman left and returned with documents detailing everything that was filed away.

The woman hands Samson a stack of papers and he thanks her and sits down at a table nearby, Samuel across from him with a bored yet pissed off expression. He taps his fingers idly on the table while Samson silently reads. Every so often he hears Samson make noises ranging from a surprised 'oh?' to an angry 'bastards!'. Finally, curiosity and anger mix and he bursts.

"Fucking hell already! Just tell me what the fuck is going on already!"

The woman manning the records counter gives Samuel a pointed look. He holds his hand up, hoping she takes it for a universal apology and settles down. Samson raises an eyebrow at him, surprised by his compliance.

"Wow, never thought I'd see the day. Usually you respond with yelling or a middle finger or something. What's different now?"

"We're not in America," He says casually, "Being loud is disrespectful around here."

Samson responds with raising his other eyebrow. Samuel sneaks him a middle finger, "Just tell me what you found out!"

The Son of Athena shuffles the papers back in order and clears his throat before continuing, "Well, not a whole lot, but everything that matters, really. I always knew my father was an engineer and did work for the American government when he left Japan which was why he wasn't interned at a camp when the war started. According to the records, he designed engines for military craft before the start of the war. However, he hated the Japanese emperor at the time and refused to make more war machines that was being used against China and other countries in the Thirties."

Samson pauses, flipping the page and preparing himself for the next part of his father's summarized story, "He... had a wife who was imprisoned by officials to try and force him to keep working, but she died of disease not long after. The records state that the facilities used to keep prisoners were abhorrent, and the warden refused medical attention to his inmates. After she died, my father took or destroyed his work and fled with the help of a Russian spy named Richard Sorge who set him up with a transport to America. There he gave his designs to the government and worked with them to help develop new fighter planes including the American Mustang. After the war he was awarded an earnings and quietly retired to a small town. From there... well I know what happens from then."

He closes the folder and sets it down on the table. He folds his hands under his chin and looks down on the enclosed documents, his eyes studious as he leers down on them like they're the scum of the Earth.

Quietly, he continues, his voice calm, unwavering, yet empty. Samson isn't sure how to describe his emotions. He's not angry, nor is he sad. Yet... he feels hollow still, even if he got exactly what he wanted. He learned about his father's history in Japan, but it just _isn't right. _Somehow he feels more incomplete now than ever. He sighs, picks up the folder and walks over to the counter and returns it back to the lady. He thanks her and heads outside. Samuel follows, watching him with a knowing gaze.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it? I went through the same thing when Mom talked to me about my Dad, and then it got worse when I actually _met _him in a dream one time. Not sure how she pulled it off but Mom got me to dream in Elysium somehow and I got to talk with my pops for the first time in years. I tell you what, the more I look into it and hear about him the worse that feeling gets. No clue if it'll pass in time, but I say just leave things where they are. The past is in the past, and I know my pops doesn't want me stuck somewhere for long. So why bother with that junk? C'mon, let's get out of here. We've still got a job to do."

Samson nods, quickly wiping faint dampness from his eye and standing tall with his head held high and a new focus in his mind.

"Yeah, let's go. This place sucks."


	37. A Dark Feeling Begins

**A/N: Alright, I'm back again. Happy delayed Valentine's Day greeting. Yeah there's really not a good or consistent upload schedule for me, I just kinda put these out whenever I have time off from work, which is basically most days in the week. Frick, consistency is hard. Anyways we're in for the fun times this chapter, play time was last chapter. Time for business. Hope this chapter satisfies ya'll.**

* * *

Hashima Island, also known as Battleship island, is a historical culture sight off the coast of Nagasaki. For over a hundred years the island was expanded, turned into its' own township and loaded with mining equipment to dig for coal on the ocean bed. Finally retired from active use in nineteen seventy four, it was abandoned and left to its devices for decades before being opened to the public as a tourist site. However, thanks to the files Perry got from his contacts around the globe, the story is more than that.

Over the years thousands of workers died mining, especially during the Imperial period. Death, equipment and relative isolation, it was the perfect place for a rogue group of to set up shop. Whatever their plan may be no one knows except for the highest, unknown executives running the operation, whatever it may be. Samson doesn't find much confidence, or any at all, with how little someone as accomplished as Perry was able to gleam for Samuel and himself.

Samson stands at the front of the ferry, gripping the railing and watching the silhouette of Battleship Island approach slowly. Around him tourists of many nationalities, including those from within Japan, chat and squirm about the vessel, taking selfies or questioning their guides.

It's entirely domestic, and that sets off warning bells.

Even from a great distance away Samson can feel a tremendous sense of suffering, magic and danger. Samson's natural empathy powers have slowly returned back to him, another side-effect/ gift of his unnatural birth, and those natural powers are warning him of great danger.

Add on to that Samson can feel the Mist practically rippling like the waves of the ocean he's riding on. Something inside the island is producing such incredible magic, enough for him to safely compare it to the same level of the time the Goddess of Magic herself reset an entire burning town back to normal.

Through basic logic Samson can deduce the 'group' is headed by a god at the very least. How minor, however, he can't be sure, as even the Goddess of fucking Nets is no pushover of a fighter. Something with unworldly powers is at work here, and that thought scares him deeply.

The silhouette of the island is cleared up now, Samson can see grays, rusty browns and a few hintings of green from the little amounts of plant life growing still on a mostly concrete and steel island. The rippling magic is as strong as he's ever felt it, and how he feels it now is a gross sense of _wrong. _It doesn't feel right, where Hecate uses magic expertly, with subtlness and poise, like a graceful dancer or a masterful painter. This magic is the complete opposite, it feels strong and forced. Like a boxer punching a workout bag, just simply beating the Mist into shape rather.

With the sound of a cute horn, the small barge pulls into a dock. Samson was so fixated on the wrongness of the island he didn't even realize at least half an hours travel went by. He shakes his head and lines up with everyone else heading for the exit ramp.

* * *

"We split up and look for clues?"

Samson shrugs in response, "I'd guess so. I'm gonna look around the 'forbidden' buildings and see if I can't find a way into the infrastructure that's still buried in the ground. It might be an entrance to wherever this Foundry is."

"Well," Samuel says, looking around at the tourists separating into large groups, "I'll stick with the people. One of these assholes might be a member or something, who knows? How are we supposed to keep in contact? We can't use radios unless you've got magic or something. Some Deus Ex Machina or whatever you can pull out of your ass."

If he's being totally honest, Samuel's sticking with the 'people' because he's really disinterested in, well, _all of this. _Thrill seeking, violence and murder crap is the old Samuel. Sure, don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate that stuff, it's just really boring and tiring to him now. All of that shit just ended up with him being hurt, like say having a crushed arm, or losing an entire fucking hand. An eye that one time for a bit, but that healed after he was a werewolf. Oh yeah, don't forget he was one of those for a minute too.

Believe him when he says he's done with all of it. He just wants to plant shit in his garden, get lit with Hylla and _relax _seeing as how he almost certainly won't live to an advanced age and he wants to spend the limited time he has enjoying himself in the Mortal World before he gets sent to Elysium.

"We'll just have to find one another," Samson decides not to tell him of his ability to link people telepathically. He'd rather not share a link with Samuel, "I don't have anything."

Samuel's pretty certain that's a lie, but he's not concerned. Once again, this shit is boring and he has _no _desire to be involved in any personal way with any of this shit, "Then let's get too it."

* * *

"Oh geez, Tom, this place is mighty scary!" White man one says. "You sure are right, Carl!" White Man two says. Samuel locks eyes with the tour guide and sees the deadness in them, even if he's forcing a smile, making him look like some kind of sad, demented clown. The more the two white guy tourists talk the more Samuel feels like dive-jumping off the concrete walls into the waves below. But not before taking them with him, obviously. Can't forget that step.

"Yes, if you three would follow me I will take us to the site of the school. We can't enter due to safety concerns, but I can share stories told to me first hand by the grown children who used to live and learn on this island. Their stories range from those during the Imperial era up to those who were here when the island was abandoned only a few decades ago."

...Okay, so _maybe _he's curious. Might as well enjoy the trip while he can, right? It's not every day one can go on a cultural journey, after all.

* * *

Samson looks around at the inside of the building he's entered. Likely an old industrial conveyor building, Samson treads carefully as he makes his way around the ruined floor and collapsed machinery. The building is big, humongous even without any walls separating parts of it with the exception of a long overhanging office that in the past would overlook the workers and equipment with complete, unhindered view. He can't help but shutter at the thought of being an overworked laborer constantly monitored by an Officer in the army during the war.

He steps over a toppled conveyor belt, his hands becoming stained with decades old rust as he pulls himself over. Wind howls through the shattered glass windows high up on the walls, distantly reminding him of the calls of the Sirens from way back. What sets Samson's nerves off the most is the shadows that seem to shift around him. Even with godly senses the industrial house seems dark, like the same darkness of the spirits that haunted the ruined Vineyard Samuel and he went to some months back.

_Crack._

The Hades was that?! He spins around, hands in his jacket pocket ready to take his weapon out at a moments notice. He doesn't feel alone now, but that paranoid sense of being watched is completely absent. Quickly he dives over and behind a ruined steel structure, waiting for whatever is with him to pass by.

* * *

Samuel isn't sure how he ended up with the enemy. Like, completely in the dark. One second he was enamored with the tour guides story about a harrowing, yet doom driven story of a forced worker's escape from the island, the next a strong set of hands grab him and now he's surrounded by a bunch of eerily grinning 'tourists' that when you look past The Mist are actually monsters and likely rando demigods in disguise.

They walk like a regular tourist group, mulling about the sites and commenting on the decaying buildings around them, but they're moving completely in a different direction from the other groups. Add onto that, none of the guides even look in their direction or acknowledge a group going completely off course from the rest.

There's no doubt about it, he's surrounded by agents of the enemy, and they all think he's one of them!

Shoulder to shoulder they move forward, basically dragging Samuel as he plays along with their weirdness. Seriously, the neverending _smile _makes him want to throw up. Who can keep a smile like that up for so long?! Their eyes seem unnaturally small and beady from their smiles, and despite that looking in their eyes he sees no life. Like looking in the eye of a fish or something. There's no cognitive thoughts happening, just pure instinct.

It kinda freaks him out!

"This way my new friends," Says the tour guide. Samuel's first thoughts for her would be 'cute' and not in a sexual way. Her head is tiny and is capped by a comically large red visor. He shirt has something he can't read in Japanese on it with a picture of some unknown cutesy anime character on it. Her bag is bright pink and almost the size of her torso it seems. If it weren't for her lifeless eyes he'd feel completely charmed by her.

"It's time for proper orientation, everyone! Single file please! Nice and orderly!"

Samuel bumbles as he's basically tossed around into the middle of a single file line with twelve people ahead of him and half as much behind. Being tossed around so much makes him want to whip his gun out and start shooting, but he has the feeling that even if he got some kills in he'd be overrun and killed fairly quickly.

Also, this is literally his only lead.

He's marched into an old building filled with destroyed factory belts and rollers. The guide expertly weaves them around the toppled ruins, never once stumbling or having to walk over anything large. By chance he happens to look to his right and is surprised to see Samson giving him a 'what the fuck' look from the shadows behind some toppled machine shit.

Samuel does his best to gesture 'I don't know' and motions for Samson to follow behind. The Son of Athena nods and vanishes past his sight. The group travels a bit further until the guide stops them at an empty wall with an old propaganda poster on it. She turns to the group and widens her smile, making everyone but Samuel smile just the same in return.

She lifts the poster up and presses a button hidden underneath. The wall adjacent to them bangs loudly, the stone grinding as a section the size of an elevator door slides down and reveals a large room hidden behind.

Everyone shuffles in, the tour guide going last, and she presses a few buttons on a panel inside the room. The wall slides back up, and with a heavy thud that stumbles everyone the whole room shifts and feels like it's slowly lowering down. The guide stares blankly into everyone's souls as the elevator slowly lowers, and for the first time in a long time Samuel feels like crying.

_This is so awkward!_

* * *

Samson continues climbing down a seemingly endless service ladder inside of the elevator shaft Samuel disappeared into. Opening the door took a surprisingly strong amount of magic. Whatever spell was used to enchant the wall was strong, and tearing the wall down without alerting the security spells was not lesser either. The shaft is dark, pitch black with only his Candlelight spell to help him see.

His feet tap on something hard and he guesses he found the top of the elevator. Looking around he spots an old, rusty vent cover large enough for a grown man to comfortable crawl through.

Convenient.

He tubs the cover gently and it rips right off with barely any effort. He sets it down and crawls into the old venting system, his way still light by his spell. Cool air flows through the vent, and despite being cramped and stuffy from years of dust Samson feels relatively comfortable.

_Probably an airflow vent to bring in fresh air. This place is easily a couple hundred feet down, maybe even below the ocean surface considering this was an ocean coal mine. Be on your guard, keeping a place like this safe enough for an operation takes a lot of money and resources._

Samuel agrees. The enemy is well supplied and competent, even if they somehow accidentally kidnapped Samuel. Though he supposes he shouldn't discredit Samuel, he's an efficient fighter and incredibly crafty. Samson is confident Samuel will manage, so he'll ready himself to bust him out of trouble should his cover be blown.

He sees light ahead. He turns his light off and quietly crawls over and looks down through a vent cover on the ceiling of a room filled with almost twenty people. There in the center seat he sees Samuel sitting in a desk along with everyone else like it's a school room. He puts an ear to the vent and listens as close as he can.

* * *

Samuel's day seems to be getting worse by the second. As quick as they were shoved from the elevator they were shuffled into a brightly lit classroom with desks facing a large projector screen. They're seated, and the guide stands at the front facing everyone still sporting that unnerving smile.

"Welcome everyone!" She says cheerfully. The room chorus's back hellos with Samuel only barely the last one to say it back. "Now I _know _you're all excited to begin your new lives in complete dedicated to the one true lord, believe me... _I'm so excited myself._"

The guide shudders, eyes half lidded like she just... well had an orgasm basically. Samuel feels even more uncomfortable now than ever before, and when he looks around it feels even worse as he's _the only one remotely disturbed. _He smacks his head down on his desk and groans quietly as the guide zips back to normal in a flash and continues her spiel.

"But first we have to get through orientation!" Everyone in the classroom, Samuel especially, groans in absolute misery. Looks like even brainwashed psychos hate orientation too.

"Now now, it's not _that _bad, and trust me when I say it's very important! After all, you're new lives start now! Better you're all prepared for your inevitable fates than left bumbling in the light without our lords darkness for guidance!"

Someone towards the back raises their hand, "Isn't it the other way?"

The guide stares blankly at the person, smile still ever present if only slightly more... dangerous now. Suddenly the door flies open and two large men in matching jumpsuits burst in, grab the questioning person, and drag them out. The door slams shut by itself, and in a matter of four seconds the entire drama is over. Everyone turns back to the guide, toothy smiles still plastered on their lifeless faces.

Samuel looks back at the door a few times, still unsure if _that _actually happened, but looking at the empty chair he knows that yes, it did in fact happen. He gulps nervously and turns back to the guide, hands neatly folded on the table and the biggest fake smile on his face he can muster.

What the fuck did he get himself into?!

"Let's start orientation now! It's only one video just a few minutes long!"

The room lights dim and the projector starts up by itself. Numbers, static and random, hollow eyes flash on the screen for a few seconds before it clears up. The colors of the video are grainy and faded, like it was filmed in the early seventies or something. Still a colored video, but not quite crisp like modern films are now.

In the video a mechanic with just absolutely thick hair and wearing a blue jumpsuit is working on a car with his back turned to the camera. He turns around, fake smile exactly like the one the guide has, and laughs, taking his goggles off and setting them to his side.

"Hello there! I didn't see you come in! Take a seat, please! It's time for your _very important _orientation!"

The man kneels on one leg and looks directly into the camera, and for a faint second he swears the man in the video is looking around at everyone in the room. He meets Samuel's eyes and _swear _to every go he can name that he fucking **was **looking at him!

"Now trust me, orientation was just as unpleasant for me, why back in my day we had to listen to the radio recording for ours!"

He fake laughs, and barely a half second later everyone in the classroom is too, all in sync with the exact same laugh as of _course _they can't have an ounce of individuality.

The video suddenly cuts to a slide show, each image showing old photos of horrible acts of human cruelty. Police beating a black man in the streets, men and women lined up against with a readied firing squad, Nazi soldiers laughing and pissing on the dead body of a man with a white star stitched to his jacket, a jungle battlefield with dead Viet Cong and US GI bodies littered all across the ground, many missing some or most of their bodies.

Despondently, the narrator continues, "Unfortunately, our world is one filled with despair. Humans can't be trusted to run this world, and the so called 'gods' that run it only further this unfortunate truth. You're hear today because you want to make a difference, and in our service you will! For decades we've been working to the destruction of the old world. From the ashes we rise!"

"From the ashes we rise!" The classroom echoes. "Y-yeah... rise" Samuel follows just after the rest. Thankfully, no one notices or pays him any attention.

"As the face of our organization, I welcome you to your new life! Serve unquestioningly, and you'll be rewarded with eternal life stitched to our lord's body! So let it be my honor to welcome you to eternal service to the Kult of Tartarus! Our Lord in the Dark, he who rises from below!"

...Slowly, Samuel brings the tips of his fingers and gently places them against his temples. A deep, hollow pit grows in his guts as the video cheerfully continues, no one except for him even _remotely _bothered by the fact they're basically serving the Greek equivalent of the Devil.

"Oh god... I'm fucked."


	38. The Walls Are Alive

**A/N: Well isn't that just dandy? I'm back with another chapter for everyone, and I'm pretty excited for this one too. Trust me, you'll see why. Anyways stay healthy and safe, the new virus seems to be making decent enough headway around the world now.**

* * *

The door to the Strife Mansion opens and closes quickly and quietly. A figure twirls happily like a faux ballerina in delight down the steps and towards the main gates. Her hair spins around her body while a gleeful smile adorns her face. Sarah, daughter of Hygieia, yes the Goddess of Health -Don't remind her!- is having a remakrably wonderful night! The full moon shines down high in the sky and her mood couldn't be any higher!

Sure, branding Perry and forcing him to be her personal slave/lover was kinda dickish, but that's just how things go for Amazons! Seriously he should've known what he was getting into being so gosh darn handsome! And to make it even better he _escaped. _Sure Hylla put a bounty on his head for a while since he killed like four of her sisters escaping, but that just makes him all the more desirable.

Don't look at her that way, she has perfectly acceptable reasons for her tastes! After Hylla hired Perry and they stomped out the cult hanging around Boston things started looking up for them again. They talked more, fucked a little in his car and just overall bonded real nice-like. It's a bizarre concept to wrap her head around, accepting men as something close to equals, but if Queen Hylla manages it with some psycho that can't garden for shit then surely Sarah can with a well adjusted son of Aphrodite that can fight like it's no ones business.

Sarah ends her twirling dance of happiness only twenty paces from the tall, Gothic style fence and gate and fishes a then metal container from her back pocket. Normally demigods would never be out in the open at night, especially on a full moon when mystical mumbo-jumbo energies are at their strongest, but the Strife Mansion isn't just some ordinary abode.

Not only is it the personal home of a paranoid Queen of warrior women, it's _also _the home of an equally paranoid and even more psychotic son of Eris with a _lot _of money. Hidden repeating crossbow turrets that pop out of the ground, robot arms that throw ninja stars with deadly accuracy, pit falls and spike traps, she even heard rumors about a trained tiger that's waiting _somewhere _to jump out of the shadows!

She asked Hylla about it once and the Queen just smiled and walked away without a word. You're not helping, Hylla!

The Daughter of Hygiene opens the tin case and pulls out a hand rolled cigarette and lights the end. She takes a few good puffs and sighs happily. Damn, Samson really knows the good stuff! This _Aphrodite Passion _strain is great!

_Ehem._

What the fuck was that? Sarah coughs wetly a few times and looks around. Her eyes land at the gate, and then at the numerous figures in dark _behind _it. Easily five dozen unidentifiable figures crowd around the gate and along the length of the fence facing the direct front of the mansion. The androgynous figures all wear dark cloaks that cover their bodies fully, leaving only the bottom of their faces visible to the faint light on the gates. The crowd is armed with an assortment of outdated weaponry. Swords, maces, flails, one handed crossbows, even one or two with Klingon Bat'leth's.

Sarah watches the crowd wide eyed with a mix of anticipation and just a touch of fear. Slowly she backs up, keeping a cautious eye on the ranged units as she tries to make her way back to the house without provoking a stampede.

Slowly the front-most robed weirdo approaches the gate and pushes it open. With just a touch of trepidation Sarah watches as the weirdo slowly and most definitely purposefully puts their foot down on the immediate Mansion property. Time comes to a crawl as a deep pit forms in Sarah's gut. Suddenly she feels hyper aware of everything happening around her. She can feel the tiny drop of sweat falling down the curve of her face, she can feel the wave of goosebumps rolling under her sleeves and especially, _very _especially she notices that none of the automatic defenses are activating to a _very_ clear threat to the Mansion.

"Oh, fiddlesticks!"

* * *

Hylla's having a pretty good day, she has to say. Net profits are up for Amazon even if Bezos and his huge head give it a bad name. Recruitment for proper Amazons is up even more -another thing she can use to flex on Reyna, lovingly of course- and best of all, she doesn't get her cycle anymore! Her current... _condition _has seen to that, and she has to admit not having it anymore is probably the best gift the gods could've ever given to human women.

Too bad Daughters of Bellona don't naturally not have them, at least that would've been _something _they could've inherited from her mom. Seriously! Basically every other demigod has some cool powers or awesome special abilities. Athena kids are the closest but they get super smart and weaving as some sort of boon. All Hylla and Reyna get is fighting ability and a natural skill with basically any weapon. Cool enough, but Reyna's boy toy or whatever the two had could fucking _fly **and **shoot lightning out of his ass._

Bullshit if you ask her, but the one thing she has to flex on _all _of them is she's fucking **loaded. **Let Percy and Annabeth scramble for scholarships, she can pay for it and every kid in New York State's tuition several times over before she would even notice the dip in her account.

**Thud.**

What the hell? Godsdammit if it's _another _Jehovah's Witness she's going to commit a heresy and murder them! She basically rips the door open with a snarl, barely able to mouth a single angry word before a blonde blur flies past her and slams into the floor.

"Sarah, the fuck are you doing?!" Her potty language hasn't gotten worse the longer she's around Samuel, "Is that... you have _bolts _stuck in your back!"

She doesn't respond to the statement of her injuries, Sarah instead flies back to her feet and slams the door shut with more might than Hylla thought the lanky bitch could produce. She stumbles slightly but catches herself in Hylla's arms, disturbing the queen with her sweaty, bloody and filth cover self.

"Q-H-Queen Hylla!" She shrieks, "Attack, we! We're attack!"

Hylla gives her a second, "We're under attack!"

The Amazon Queen walks Sarah over to a nearby chair and sets her down, shaking her head as Sarah continues mumbling other obscenities and dire warnings of impending death.

"You're fine," She chides, "You just triggered the defenses somehow, I'm sure. C'mon, let's get you to the medic. The bolts aren't too deep, but they're gonna hurt like shit yanking them out. Did you see the Tiger? That might explain the blood and other... things."

Sarah struggles against Hylla's hold, even with her Herculean might thanks to her belt Hylla struggles ever so faintly to keep the ironic daughter of Health still.

"You don't understand," She raves, "There's a hundred of them out there! Code Red, My Queen, Code Red!"

"SARAH!" Hylla roars, the Queen barely suppressing her urge to shake Sarah until she stops moving, "SHUT the hell up and go to the medic!"

Just then, a glass bottle smashes through the window, oily gasoline catching fire from a burning sheet of paper and spreading nicely across a large portion of the entry.

Slowly Hylla turns and looks outside of the nearest window. All across her lawn is rows and rows of figures in dark hoods and robes, each waiting patiently and neatly. One in the front row spots Hylla and waves cheerfully at her. Hylla draws the curtains closed in response.

She turns down and looks at Sarah pinched in her mighty grasp, "Sarah," she says evenly, "Go get the rest of your squad." Hylla drops her and the younger Amazon scrambles off hollering and screaming for her sisters-in-arms to ready for battle.

Hylla cracks her neck left and right and approaches a bust of some random Greek dude and lifts the head to reveal a hidden button inside. She slams her fist down on it, activating Samuel's emergency contingency. Quickly irons bars slam down on ever window and door in the house. Large steel beams slide up from the floor and brace the various doors around the house. Unfortunately the exterior defenses refuse to activate, but all the fire power she needs is already inside.

Behind the couch the wall slides down to reveal a full arsenal of various weapons and armor. Hylla dons a custom-fitted steel breast plate and grabs an over sized mace and shield. To top it off, she slides down a solid steel Roman style helmet and straps it in place.

"Okay, dead men," She says, face donning a toothy, violent smile, "Just fucking try it!"

* * *

Samuel is _not _having a good day right about now. The wackos he gets stuck with are a stupid brainwashed cult dedicated to Tartarus, the _actual _worst primordial you possibly could throw yourself to. After the 'introduction' Samuel was shoved out of the room and, quote, told to 'Apply your services to the greater good of out master!' which left him wandering around the horror house that is this underground base.

While not utterly massive, Samuel estimates no less than a hundred and fifty men and women down in the re-purposed mining facility. Wandering the halls Samuel made a mental account of the faculties and armaments the cult has available to them. With just a quick stroll and a few glances, Samuel can see this 'cult' is well set up and ready for a war.

Rows and rows of barracks filled with heavy looking, yet crudely constructed weapons mimicking various military styles across the world and time. He recognizes the sweeping helmets of the conquistadors, plates styled like German knights and arms just as varied.

"Is that... a Star Trek Bat'leth?"

What really sets Samuel's nerves off is a twofold combination of equally disturbing facts. One; it is silent. Completely quite except for the distant sounds of forging and smelting machinery. Not a single human or even monster voice sounds out through the winding, labyrinthine halls. Two; there are eyes everywhere. Not literally, of course, but the very stone walls beat with life. Now that he's not kidding. If one put their hands on the stone walls they'd feel a heat not unlike the radiant heat of human skin. Then on top of that is the pulsing, like beatings of a heart, one can feel touching the stone.

If didn't know he's touching stone Samuel would believe he's trapped inside of an actual living creature.

He stops by a railing overlooking a large, empty room with nearly a dozen cages dug into the walls surrounding the edges. All but two are empty, and in the ten unoccupied cages Samuel believes he can see faint piles of bones lying propped up against the bars. But in the other two, large, shadowy masses lie towards the back of their cages. He can't make anything specific out, but whatever they are are monsters of a kind he feels he's never seen before.

_"Psst, Samuel!"_

He jolts lightly, just a little surprised to hear his name whispered. Don;t look at him like that! This place is freaking spooky, alright?! Samuel looks around sees no one, which of course doesn't help his nerves feel any better.

_"Up here!"_

Samuel looks up and sees Samson looking at him through the slits in a vent up top. Silently he yanks the cover off and slides down onto the floor with Samuel. He'll never admit it, but seeing someone he knows is _really _nice right now.

"Dude," He says, looking exactly as you would expect from someone crawling through hundreds of feet of vents, "This place is _fucked. _Like seriously fucked!"

"Yeah no shit!" He hisses silently, "We need to get the fuck out of here! This place is literally alive, feel the walls!"

Samson touches the wall and quickly yanks it away, cradling the hand to his chest like it were a child. He looks at Samuel with wide eyes and mouth agape like a fish.

"See?!" Samuel says, relieved he's not the only one freaked right now, "We gotta get out of here! This place is worse than a haunted house!"

_Ehem._

The Son of Athena sighs and runs a hand through his hair, "Fuck, dude we can't. Is there dynamite or something? Maybe we can collapse it or something?"

"Ugh, fine you're right! Don't those-" He points to the flowers growing on Samson's jacket, "-blow up or something?"

_Ehem._

"They're like grenade, the concussion isn't enough to collapse reinforced structures even if they're underground!"

_Ehem._

Samuel remembers the barracks and snaps his fingers, "They've got a pretty big arsenal down here. I'm sure they have proper explosives there!"

"We do," A voice says, making the Sam's skin crawl, "But you're not authorized to use them. Would you two follow us, please?"

Slowly the both of them look, facing down the skinny, weirdly sexual tour guide from Samuel's orientation and no less than twenty men in jumpsuits with crossbows aimed right at them.

"Oh, fiddlesticks..."

* * *

And that, kids, is how Samson and Samuel found themselves tied up, unarmed and hung over a giant vat filled with bright, molten metal. Looking at them from across the gap is rows and rows of uniformed men and women in jumpsuits and several people in giant, clunky armor with humongous weapons. Beyond them is an even _bigger _man with well crafted and decorated armor than covers ever inch of his body in thick plate armor. The metal still seems to burn like lit coal and sliding light like fire dances under the skin of the black metal. Clutched in his hands is a giant hammer shaped like some sort of bell that has to weigh no less than a thousand pounds at the very least.

The beast of the man seems content to sit back and watch their execution from far away. To Samuel he seems kinda... bored, like this isn't exciting to it like it seems to be for the fifty others.

The tiny tour guide emerges from the crowd, hand folded neatly in one another and faux, inhuman smile still welded to her face. The heat from the smelter is close to unbearable, Samuel thanks his coat given to him by his mother as the magic woven into it certainly is the only thing keeping his body from boiling inside out already. Samuel struggles against the bonds but stops when he sees the guide pull a simple looking dagger from behind her back and hold it against the rope holding the Sam's above the vat that is tied to the railing, securing them from falling into a motel death.

Samuel sighs and goes still, causing a big smile to grow larger on her face, "So wonderful of you two to come to us! Our brothers had set out to kill you, yet here you are now! Come to us instead! Well, no point in calling them off now. Killing the Queen is a large positive a too. Then one of our members can claim the throne and bring the Amazon's under out great Lord's control! Isn't that great?!"

The Son of Eris growls, gritting his teeth in anger, but he's not all too worried. If this chucklefucks want to try and kill Hylla then he wishes them good luck. The Queen of the Amazon's isn't just something you 'deal with'. This tiny chick here has no idea what lion she's just awoken!

"Hah!" He belows snidely, "Good luck, bitch! My house isn't some fancy boughie palace! I've got more defenses than you can count, and a fucking _tiger! _Did you fucks forget who you're fucking with?! Hylla isn't some Aphrodite bitch, she's the Queen of the Amazon's, and I'm her king! You're days are numbered, so just try it! See how quickly I kill you fucks! Just try and run, if I don't sniff you out then _she _will!"

Unfortunately, his attempt at intimidation went completely unconcerned by any in the crowd. They all just remain still and silent, as though Samuel's words didn't even reach their ears to begin with.

"Why, of_ course_ we know Queen Hylla is a threat! Why else would we have double agents stationed in the house ready to sabotage your impressive defenses? Surprise! By now our brave assassins are storming your palace as we speak, and without true backup she's as sure as dead! This really must be a gift from our lord, delivering _both _of our enemies to us without so much of a hiccup along the way!"

Her eyes turn sharp suddenly, cruel intent filling those eyes of the like Samuel and Samson have only seen a few times before.

The eyes of someone truly possessed by a lust for murder.

"Impressive speech," Samson says, doing his best to stall. It's clear to him this girl is the only one with personal thought. The rest are closer to empty drones, hollow humans doing what they're told with complete obedience.

"Yet you haven't dropped us in yet. You want something from us, don't you? Why else would you go through with the theatrics? It's a waste. A true killer has a reason for everything they do. Every cut made with clear intention, every murder made to make a statement. So what's yours, then?"

The psycho giggles happily and removes the knife from the rope, cradling it to her chest as she spins around like a young girl in a princess costume. Her demented giggles makes the Sam's feel like throwing up. This chick is fucking nuts!

_"Start rocking!" _Samuel nods and starts swinging his legs in tandem with Samson. The girl has her back to them, arms held wide out in some form of mockery of the gods as she continues her ravings at her hollow fellows.

"Why, I'm _so _glad you asked!" Samson and Samuel swing their legs more and more frantically, swinging them in increasingly greater arcs. The madwoman continues, "Our Lord loves a show! The better presented the sacrifice the greater his love for us grows! I live to please our lord, and once I die I will be reborn in his darkness and transformed into the greater being I deserve to be!"

The rope holding the Sam's groans as they rock. Looking down Samuel sees that their feet are just barely passing the lip of the vat of molten metal, _"Keep going! We've almost made it!"_

"So, to the _greatest _lord Tartarus, I offer you this sacrifice! Consume these unworthy souls, as is my honor your truest priestess!" With a shrill cry, she spins around and slashes the rope with her dagger, cutting it clean through.

Samson and Samuel scream as the rope loses tension and drops them straight down into the molten metal below. The last thing either sees is the toothy, inhuman smile of a demented woman obsessed with something so far beyond her. Her laugh of victory echoes far into the living halls of the foundry, and resonating with them the walls seem to laugh with her.

Tartarus, it seems, is pleased with his next sacrifice.


	39. The Big Bad Wolf and Giant Murder Bear

**A/N: Well, guess humanity is due for a new plague. **_Runs around screaming and hollering of our imminent viral/bacterial demise. _**Just kidding. Corona-chan is really infectious with a very small death rate. Give it a year or so and we'll have vaccines and medicines. Basically it's our new flu. Also, more people die from the standard flu than Corona-chan. You only have to worry if you're a super old and super unhealthy old person or the same as a young child. Basically if you're not a disgusting fuck with a good immune system you'll be fine. Do you think Corona-chan will take out all the anti-vaxxers? I hope so. We don't need that cancer. Anyways stay healthy ya'll, like you should be but you have to consciously tell people that nowadays.**

* * *

The fiery pit of molten metal zooms ever closer as the rope holding the Sam's up is cut by a megalomaniacal tour guide. Samson never thought _that _would be something he'd ever have to think in his mind, but it's not the oddest thing he supposes. Both of them were tied back to back and bound with ropes, meaning they were to be sacrificed to Tartarus together. With their quick thinking Samuel and Samson rocked themselves while they were dangling, an act which one-hundred percent saved their lives.

Falling down at an angle they clipped the side of the vat rather than falling straight down. They land right on the edge, balancing desperately so they don't fall into the molten pit Samuel stares down.

"Ooooh my god! Samson push us! I'm looking at lava!" With a strained groan Samson rocks his body and they two of them fall off the edge that thankfully doesn't lead into a pit of liquid metal. Instead they fall down fifty feet and land on the hard, hot metal floors of the re-purposed coal mine.

Samson groans as _he's _the one who broke their fall rather than Samuel. For the best he supposes, Samuel likely would've broken his ribs and died from the fall. Up above the duo can hear the screams and raves of the insane tour guide, the tiny psychopath bellowing orders to her army of empty-minded enslaved humans.

"AFTER THEM!"

Samuel starts straining against the ropes, wiggling the tiny knife he hides in his sleeve into his hand, "Yeah, time to go! Help me cut these ropes!" Samson nods and starts trying to wiggle himself free as well.

"Gods, they tied these ropes good!"

"But not good enough!" With a shout Samuel drags his knife across the ropes and cuts them clean, freeing them from their bonds! "Aha! Not too bad. Now let's find my damn gun, I want to see if I can make that psycho-chick's head explode!"

Samson rolls his eyes and fishes his condensed spear from his pocket, thanking the idiocy and arrogance of their temporary captors.

"Okay... know the way to the arsenal? Or where your gun is?"

The Son of Eris pauses for a moment.

"Fuck."

* * *

Stomping feet of a dozen jumpsuited-men rush past the dark corner Samson and Samuel are hiding in. Samuel peeks and sees them round a corner, just before he leaves his cover Samson pulls him back and shushes him, giving him a hand signal to wait. Just then two massive... _things _stomp past. Large men easily seven foot each donned in armor as black as coal lumber past. Each step slams down with a boom, and despite them clearly wearing armor no less than five-hundred pounds each they still cover distance like a normal person might be able to.

Samuel quickly examines the armor for any weak points yet finds none, the men are completely encased in armor like walking tanks. Despite the crude roughness of the armor design, it seeming like a poor bastardization of a traditional knights armor, it encases the wearer completely and the plates slide seamlessly to prevent much against movement.

The Black Knights disappear around the same corner as the rest of the peons and the duo break cover and make their way down the opposite hall. Samuel does his best to remember the hallways from when he was still incognito, but the twisting and winding former mining halls with not a single sign or other marking makes it difficult to remember his way around.

"Here," Samuel points down a hall with actual tiles built into the floor, "I think this is it."

They race down the hall and arrive at a reinforced metal door. Samuel curses and tugs at the metal. It slides slowly into the wall but suddenly stops as the latch inside catches the hook to prevent anyone from opening it without a key. Samson hears stomping faintly in the distance and rushes over and helps Samuel with the door. Both grunt in effort, and with a final shout the metal latch snaps and the door flies open.

Quickly the race inside and silently close the door just in time as more Jump suits race past the door.

"I heard them! This way!"

Samuel hears the men's shout but ignores them and goes about rummaging through the shelves and bins of miscellaneous weapons, hoping to find his gun somewhere in the extensive room. Samson idly fishes through buckets and bins and finds himself increasingly disturbed at many of the contents. Rows and rows of Celestial bronze weapons are stored away, each worn with battle but no less clear they were personal weapons to young demigods of decades past. Samson sighs and recites a silent prayer, it's the least he can do for the unfortunate souls that have died at the hands of the foul cult.

Who knows, maybe Hades will give them an easier time in the underworld? Unlikely seeing as how the God of the Dead is as angsty and edgy as a Hot Topic store, much like Nico actually, but hope is all he can do really.

The Son of Eris curses and slams a bin roughly against the wall. He punches the shelf in anger and cups his face with his hands. Samson gives him a moment to himself while he fishes out old sticks of dynamite he found on a shelf. Samuel removes his hands, his eyes maybe being just a bit red from unshed tears, not that Samson would notice, and grabs a bunch of remote detonators and some scrap electronics.

"Is it just an Eris thing-" Samson asks, "-to know how to jury-rig explosives or did you figure this out by yourself."

"I learned this from the Stoll's, actually," He says casually, "They're basically domestic terrorists just without the death... Maybe. I'm pretty certain they've gotten people killed before, but then again we all have, really. Alright I got the stuff, let's find the core foundry. That vat we were dangling over wasn't the primary one, no way it could be."

He goes over to a nearby bench and starts piecing wires together with the dynamite Samson grabbed, completely immersed with his project. Samson leans against a wall and watches Samuel carefully, examining him like how his mother Athena does with him.

"...What about your gun?"

Samuel stops for a second before continuing with his work, "...It's just a gun, man... Only just a thing."

Samson ignores the sadness in his voice, and Samuel silently thanks him when he does.

* * *

Hylla cleaves a robed woman's head clean off her shoulders and uses the momentum to follow up with a strike slicing the arm off the noisy bastard trying to sneak up on her. The fire bombs thrown in the windows spread the fire even more around the mansion. Hylla uses her anger at the disrespect and destruction of her home for extra adrenaline. So far her kill count has reached near a dozen. Despite a relatively high count there's eight fold that number still waiting outside. Only a few can break in at a time it seems, but the pounding on the door means soon they'll be able to overrun the whole mansion.

A flaming body burning with blue fire crashes down through the ceiling, landing by her feet and wailing out in pain. With a quick slash their suffering is over. Mori jumps down through the hole and lands on the body, her person somehow immune to catching fire. Hylla guesses it's her magic at work, the lucky bitch.

"Sorry," She winces, looking up at the hole she made, "I, uh, underestimated my strength there." Something explodes in a distant part of the house and an entire hallway leading to the west wing of the House collapses. Mori tries her best to shrink in on herself, but Hylla simply rolls her eyes and leads Mori with her towards the dining hall.

"This place is going to come down regardless of what we do. We have to find my girls and get out of here. Can you make a portal?"

Mori actually curses in response, catching Hylla only slightly off guard, "I can't. They've got some kind of spell or device on them that's disrupting my abilities!"

Suddenly her eyes widen in revelation, "Wait! My mirror! The magic in it is internal, there's no way they can mess with it! Hylla we need to find the mirror, that's how we can get out of here!"

Said Queen of the Amazons looks down the collapsed, inferno filled hall and feels a lofty weight on her shoulders. Mori follows her gaze and feels the same, breaking feeling wash down on her as well.

"It's down that way, isn't it?"

"Yup, I put it in the treasury in the west wing."

* * *

Hylla and Mori make their way carefully across the burning beams and ruined floor leading into the west wing. Forced to take the upstairs route where the fire damage is even greater Hylla makes a promise to her mother to find the Master Mind behind all of this and wring their neck out personally. Hylla's anxiety grows by the second as she finds none of her fellow Amazons, not even Sarah, along the way. Her cries for a rendezvous were met with nothing but crackling fire and a soon to collapse mansion.

The fire licks at Hylla's legs and the intense heat and smoke makes her dizzy. Obstacles such as collapses beams require her use of strength only makes her grow weaker by the second. Mori, the great witch that she is, handles the stream of insane robed weirdos that follow behind them despite the incredible danger it possesses.

A holographic spear of magic blasts through a robed attackers chest and carries her down the hall, impaling another attacker and sending them flying out of a window at the end of a hall. Their shouts are silenced by the raging inferno spreading behind them. Mori clasps her hands together and wavy energy like water surrounds them. With a shout she drives her clasped hands up, releasing the magic into the ceiling behind them, causing it to crack and collapse down on a group of six attackers rushing them.

They cry in shock as the heavy debris crashes down on them, crushing them to death and causing the floor beneath them to collapse as well. Mori pushes Hylla roughly as the collapsing floor spreads, racing after them as well!

Both yell out in shock as the floor collapses just under their feet, taking them down a floor and into a dim room. Hylla groans and pushes herself back to her feet, Mori following suit as well.

"Where are we," Mori questions, straining her eyes to see in the dark, "Is this the treasury?"

She opens the palm of her hand, a ball of gentle light forming in it that raises up in the air. With the room lit, Hylla can see the horror that is her now _emptied _treasury. She almost falls to her knees as she takes in the completely empty room, void of anything but a spider in the corner and some scampering mice running away from the fire to safety.

"No..." Her voice quivers in disbelief, "It's, there's _nothing! _Gold, jewels, artifacts, all gone! Every precious item is gone!"

Rage wells in her and she takes it out on a nearby reinforced concrete wall. Her fist strikes right into the concrete, forming a great hole in it and almost smashing through into the other side.

She takes her hand out and growls in pain, collapsing to her knees as pain courses through her busted and bloodied hand that's almost mangled beyond recognition. Mori sighs and kneels down by her, gently taking the fucked up hand in her own. The Queen winces in pain but sighs in relief as soothing, white magic gently shimmers off Mori's hand and enters into the bloodied wounds.

The bones in her hand groan and move back into proper position, her tendons tugging by themselves and mending back together. Her skin still bleeds profusely, but Mori takes a roll of medical gauze from her jacket and wraps it around her hand. The bandages turn red on the first wrap, but subsequent ones stain less and less.

"There," The witch says, "It's the best I can do without potions. I'm good with bones, but flesh and blood is... not in my skill set. You'd need an Apollo kid for that. C'mon, let's get out of here. We can worry about your shit _after _the threat of death is away from us."

Hylla sighs and stands back up on wobbly feet, her head spinning lightly from the lingering pain, "Yeah, let's get out of here. I know a back way out of here, a hidden tunnel Samuel dug out that leads into the sewers."

"What about your Amazons? Should we still look for them?"

The Queen only growls remarkably similar to Samuel, "I think I know who robbed me blind. Only someone on the inside could've gotten in here, same with turning our defenses off. Mori, I've been betrayed by my own kind. When I find one of those girls they _better _have a good excuse!"

* * *

Samuel rounds a corner, his eyes widening as he sees a _massive _chamber built like something out of a fantasy novel. Easily two hundred feet up and twice that wide, dozens of smelters each fifty feet high with a few twice as much fill the room with pipes pumping water in, smoke out and many other bits of industrial equipment completely fill the room until it's cramped beyond what must be healthy.

Dozens of workers mingle about the heavy equipment. Even their smiles are dimmed in this place, looks like being miserable even sucks for brainwashed people, huh?

Samson sneaks around the corner and heads left, a bundle of rigged dynamite in his hands. Samuel heads right carrying the rest. He stocks them sneakily around bases of large support beams, hiding them under loose floor panels or in dark corners out of eye shot. All the while Samuel feels like he's being watched, but looking around he sees nothing except metal walkways and various industrial things he has no idea the name's of.

He shrugs and goes back to laying dynamite around. Suddenly something _heavy _bangs somewhere in the smeltery room. Samuel pauses and looks around, listening as heavy thudding footsteps bang and crash somewhere around him, even over the banging and crashing of heavy machinery he can hear the thing, whatever it may be.

Suddenly Samson rounds the corner, sprinting past him screaming, "Samuel run! They've got a giant wolf!"

Samuel can barely question him as a dark shadow batters him out of the way. His breath is knocked from his lungs as a massive wolf the size of a grizzly bear runs after Samson. Both vanish around a corner faster than he can make out anything about the beast other than it was big, black and obviously a wolf.

Samson shouts echo down the winding steel pathways far away and Samuel groans and gives himself a moment to get his breath back. Just as he stands the heavy _bang _of a massive paw crashes down just by him. Samuel freezes as a black paw slowly appears around the corner of the support he just rigged. A snout like a feral dog sniffs and huffs until slowly it turns and faces him.

Armor thick like the men from before cranks and groans as it slides harshly against one another, plates hand bent and formed specifically for this cruel bastardization of a bear closes around every vital part of it. Samuel's seen armored horses before but _this _beast knocks them out of the park. Where horses are lightly armored to keep their speed this is the complete opposite. The bear-like monster is armored entirely for defense, armor so thick and covering it even has bent coverings for its' claws, making them longer and sharper.

Red eyes like laser meets his, a bastardization of his own eye color it seems, only the beast is bloodshot and filled with anger and rage like a newly turned werewolf. Samuel looks down and narrows his eyes at the curious rifle dangled around it's armored neck. _His _rifle is held by the leather sling around the neck of the beast-bear, so tantalizingly close yet so far from reach.

"So," Samuel says casually, "They gave you that to sniff me out, eh?"

He cracks his knuckles, then his neck and stands up straight, facing down the two ton behemoth of a beast without so much of a hint of worry in his eyes. The beast drags its' claws across the metal floor, sparks flying from the claws as the heat up and smoke unnaturally. Saliva drips from the maw of the beast as it grunts and flounders in anticipation of a meal.

"Well, c'mon then! If you think you're worth that gun then come at me! Prove it, bitch, you're not worth shit!"

Man versus beast, a classic clash as old as humanity itself. The beast roars, and like a clap of thunder it barrels towards Samuel. The Son of Eris, being the badass and _not _idiotic warrior that he is, turns tail and runs the opposite direction.

As proud as he may be, Samuel's not fighting a metal bear with just his hands!


	40. Pyrrhic Victory

**A/N: Hey all. Holy fuckin' shit dude, I'm gone for a couple of months and the whole world is falling apart jfc. Anyways you've heard it from a thousand different places but I'm gonna do my part too; Wash your hands, stay away from old people, try not to spread your nasty germs everywhere, and don't gather like a Baboon orgy. Seriously, it's not as deadly as some pandemics but people can freakin' die. That's what important and not just something people are losing their minds for no reason about. Anyways I'm back with a chapter as you can see, I took some time off because I changed jobs into Private Security now and my hours -while being ass- are kinda awesome at the same time. Four days, forty-four hours and three off in a row between then. Not anything necessarily hard labor-wise, more of a mental thing. Let me tell you, people can be real assholes because they're full of themselves. At least I can call the cops since I work private property if they get too wild. That's nice. I work more hours on less days so hopefully I can start releasing more chapters for everyone. I'd like to shoot for two a week, just so I can get this story rolling and finished sometime soon. This week it'll just be one since I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing again. Sometimes you just lose interest for a while, you know? Not finishing this arc this chapter, it got much longer than I thought so it'll have to be the next one.**

* * *

There comes a time in everyone's lives, a special 'fuck this' moment that changes a person's life from then on out. For Samuel, Badass extraordinaire and not (is) a momma's boy, that time is now.

...But only because a giant bear wearing armor like some kind of fucked up nightmare from an online MMORPG (jesus that's a lot) is currently chasing him around with his baby dangling from it's filthy, grimy, blood encrusted neck. Who cares if the gun is too? That's _Samuel's _blood (not really) and only he can get it dirty!

The giant Murderbear chases behind Samuel, crashing through steel beams, heavy equipment and mindless people like a fat kid after the ice-cream truck. The clobbering thud of it's charge makes Samuel guess only just a little to how much the thing weighs. At least a couple tons if he were to guess, maybe more. Don't ask him how he can guess like that, because he has no skill in it whatsoever. It's entirely a 'oh shit, that's an animal tank, has to be a couple tons maybe' thing. The metal plates seemingly grafted into the savage beast's flesh must weigh the same weight of a regular bear on top of the actual monster being easily twice the weight of a Kodiak.

Despite not being a mythical monster, Yogi -bloodfestering- Bear back their certainly makes the shit in his organs want to slip out more than most beasts he's fought in the past before, and he _swears _to every god in the world if you tell Samson that he'll rip off your arms and shove them in your eyes!

Now, given how every badass monster in history has a name written down somewhere, Samuel decides while he's running for his very life why not give it a name? Maybe he can reach out to it if he shows a little humanity? Now that begs the question, what should he name the beast?

"Yo! Samson-" He yells over the clobbering of the beast and what he guesses to be the distant sound of Samson and the wolf fighting, "I'm trying to think of a name for my beast! Got any ideas?!"

Samuel races to a steam support beam and runs up the metal for a couple steps, just enough to dodge and jump over the bear as it rams the beam, denting the hell out of it and maiming the metal, practically rending it to shreds.

...Wait a minute... Maim and Rend!

"AHA! I'VE GOT THE NAMES!"

Samson leaps over the railing of a collapsing scaffolding tower and shouts as he lands harshly on the back of the bear, perhaps named Maim, and grips onto the spiked collar of the demon bear as it starts bucking like mechanical bull. More shouts escape him as Main furiously beats itself against anything nearby, Samuel dodging with upmost concentration as he eyes his rifle dangling from the bear's neck.

Leaping into action as Maim rears up to slam its' back down onto the ground, Samuel jumps and grips his rifle and presses his legs against the bears chest plate with all the strength he can muster. With a heavy grunt, the metal pins attaching the leather strap to the stock of the gun break loose, launching Samuel back a dozen feet where he bashes his head against a console of some kind!

The Young God sees Samuel's consciousness withering from the intense collision and jumps into action. He releases himself from the collar of the bear and jumps away as Maim backflops onto the steel tiling, forming a large indent perfectly bear shaped. He makes to run towards Samuel only to be blindsided as a large shadow the size of a moose headbutts him and throws him away nearly fifteen feet.

Samson crashes into the tiled floor and rolls himself to continue his momentum. Using an old trick he learned from his brother Thomas, Samson rolls and perfectly uses the energy to spin back to his feet and conjure the hidden Ghisi-styled shield enchanted on his sleeve just in time to catch the gnashing, bleeding teeth of the armored wolf chasing him.

Snarling, growling and salivating, the agile counterpart to Maim grips the edges of Samson's shield and starts tugging and pulling on it and his arm the same a dog would during a particularly violent session of tug of war.

Rend, the 'wolf' Samson supposes, if this thing can even be considered a wolf, slams a paw down against the ground, grips Samson's shield and rears its' head in a dramatic arc, launching Samson in a high arc where he crashes thirty feet away onto the second level of the primary foundry. Samson uses the brief pause from his pursuit to rub his arm, the injury he received from the memory of Kronos's scythe is still healing, and the tug of war session with Rend only furthers his weakend ability of defense.

If Samson wants to survive this encounter, he needs to start going on the offensive! Only problem... Rend attacks fast and the only counter is too defend, something he can no longer do.

Samson watches as Maim slowly twists its body and rises again. Acting quickly Samson yoinks a blue flower from his jacket and tosses it, hitting Samuel in the head where the magic flower Rhea grafted into his clothes explodes into several gallons of cold water. The hot metal floors hiss and scream, some even snap from the cold shock as Samuel suddenly jolts back into full consciousness. He sees Maim approaching and jumps back to his feet, rifle aimed down sight and a splitting grin on his face.

"Let's see how well you _bear _this bitch!"

Somewhere, deep in the Earth and eating a bratwurst, a well dressed man feels a disturbance in the force. Luckily for him his old friend knows exactly what to say for him.

"Samuel, that wasn't funny!"

"FUCK YOU I'M HILARIOUS!"

* * *

Hylla winces as she feels a sharp pain pass through her gut for a split second. Mori gently grabs her shoulders and leans her against a cold, concrete wall as she catches her breath.

"Are you okay? Is it the... you know?"

The stalwart Queen simply waves her off and stands proudly as the pain and exhaustion passes, "I'm fine. Just a cramp. Well, that or my husbando made a shitty joke again. They literally can cause physical pain."

Mori scrunches her mouth to the side as she stifles a growing fit of giggles. Hylla, however, doesn't let up, "Don't hold it back, seriously. You should hear how he reacts when anyone criticizes his humor. _'Shut up I'm FUNNY!'_" The poor, yet decently accurate mimic of Samuel bursts the dam. Mori and Hylla share a fit of giggles nearly identically to the group of blonde bimbos in high school who made fun of the weird kid in class within earshot.

Settling down back into comfortable silence Hylla continues leading her two-girl crew through the emergency tunnels, doing her best to appear stoic and not as lost as a grandmother in a Hot Topic.

The winding emergency escape tunnels Hylla's Amazonian engineers quietly built beneath the house is a winding series of long concrete tunnels dimly lit by embedded emergency lights at passing intervals. Much like a sewer, the tunnels are cramped and only just big enough for a few persons at a time to fit through though with th added benefit of lacking any horrendous smells of sewage waste.

Even with just barely any sorts of comfort, the tunnels are not a place Hylla was hoping ever to use. They're dark, cold, and purposefully designed to lead to many dead ends in case escapees had to try and lose pursuers. Of course this also means the ones fleeing could get lost too, and with no directional markings of any kind there's a very real possibility getting lost and starving to death.

Of course Samuel was the one who requested the tunnels be set up that way. At the time Hylla was fine with the idea, but trying in vain to memorize the single map, a map which was burned to ashes alongside her home, was a task she left to Samuel. Something she's _really _regretting at the current moment.

Suddenly, Hylla stops and crouches low to the ground, motion for Mori to do the same. She gets low and presses and ear against the cold concrete floor and closes her eyes. It's subtle, faint as the natural shiftings of the deep Earth miners can feel, but this is different. They're too close to the surface for this to be natural and too deep for it to be cars of the train system.

_Tap tap tap_

Frantic footfalls, has to be nigh a dozen, if Hylla were to guess. Following the general direction the Queen quietly races through the tunnels, making lefts, rights ups and downs until quiet, hissing voices laced with anger and fear can be hear echoing close by. Hylla's eyes narrow and the fury of a War Goddess' blood boils in her veins. Unlike most demigods born from particularly violent Gods, The Queen of the Amazons taught herself how to focus and control her fury.

Moving like a superhuman she expertly follows the echoing voices, somehow subconsciously triangulating a precise location in her brain. Mori follows behind as quietly as she can, the aura Hylla radiates is one of those 'don't fuck with me' ones that any woman with a half functioning brains knows to listen too.

Lost in her thoughts Mori doesn't notice Hylla stop until she bumps into her, almost voicing a protest before quickly clmaping her mouth shut as the voices are closer than ever.

Looking over Hylla's shoulder she can see why the Queen had stopped. Strewn to the side like a bag of refuse a familiar blonde haired daughter of Hygieia lies against the wall, body covered in bruises blood from what only could've been a tormented torture session.

Quick as a cat Hylla is by her side, fingers pressed against her neck searching for a pulse. It's there, but slow and weak. Hylla looks back to Mori who gives her a solemn shake of her head. Mori's abilities to heal flesh comes from a careful mixture of potions and sorcery, and her bag was lost in the fire not long ago.

"I'm sorry, Hylla, I can't heal her blood loss."

The Queen simply turns back to her falling comrade and gently wakes her, hoping that her old friend can give some answers as to what happened with her other Amazons. The demigod weakly cracks open her eyes, and even though her body is dying in her eyes Hylla can see the truest and purest of joy and relief.

"M-my Queen," She struggles out, voice hoarse from the blood pooling in her throat, "Th-they're traitors!"

Sarah weakly coughs, blood coming from her mouth that stains her teeth red, "Those _bitches _were cultists all along! Th-they dragged me down here and left me for dead. They're making off with everything in the safe, I saw it! I-I tried to stop them, but..." Her eyes begin dimming, all of the adrenaline keeping her going leaks out with the blood spilling from her wounds.

Hylla's eyes are stony, yet filled with an odd empowering nature despite her silence as one of her comrades slowly dies in her arms. Firmly, she takes one of Sarah's hands in her own and stares deeply into her hollow eyes, "Be with our sisters now. I hold your vows fulfilled."

It's not much, and to most her words seem to be a cold sendoff. But in the last flickering moment Hylla could see the greatest of pride swell in those crystal blue eyes. The faintest glimpse of a person completely content with life before the wavering end that follows.

Closing her eyes, Hylla silently mutters something Mori guesses to be a prayer of some sorts. Whatever it is it's clearly something for Amazons only. She gives Hylla a moment to herself before following the queen as she briskly moves past the now deceased body of her _loyal _warrior.

* * *

Taunting the bear was a bad idea. Shooting the bear in the eyes was a _very _bad idea. He expected the beast to have _some _kind of debilitating reaction to having its eyes explode (and a small part of him hoped it would die: No such luck). Maim didn't die, no, Maim got **angry. **Like a freight train it barreled after Samuel, somehow still knowing where he is at all times though the Son of Strife notes its' attacks are more clumsy than before.

Samuel dodges back as the demon bear leaps forward and smashes a paw down where he once was, the shockwave of the beasts' strength not only tearing the steel floof to bits but also colliding with his body and sending him spiraling back where he only just manages to stay on his feet before ducking down as the throws an impaled piece of sheet metal towards his head.

While thankful for the blessing he got from the Lady of the Lake Samuel knows he can't fight Maim as he's doing forever. Eventually he's going to make a mistake and it'll cost him his life. There's no beating around it. If he wants to end the fight it has to be _now._

Looking around quickly he spots one of the giant smelters containing molten metal. An idea forms in his mind nearly instantly, and he's springing into action not soon after. Sensing his fleeing presence, Maim races after him, thundering like a stampede all by itself as it furiously gives chase.

Samuel scales up the winding catwalks surrounding the some fifty foot tall vat of molten metal as his pursuer follow. The catwalks croak and groan from the intense beating they receive from the rampaging beast but manage to maintain their stability. Samuel comes to a stop on a catwalk overlooking the white hot opening of the smelter below him. The intense heat rising with the fumes turns his face red and threatens to suffocate him, but he manages to keep himself awake just long enough.

Maim announces his presence with a heavy crash as a large, multi ton console of some kind is ripped from its housing and tossed far away. With heavy, grumbling breath the bear lumbers forward and turns to face Samuel. The catwalk is like an airport runway to Samuel, completely empty and long. Perfect place for a charge, if only the bear knew it was trap.

The Son of Strife heaves and coughs, the heat cracking the skin on his face and the fumes filling his lungs with poison, but he holds on as it's all he can do. Great victories require sacrifice, and if he gets a little poisoned to kill this goddamn bear then so be it!

The showdown is like something from an old myth. A beaten, bloodied warrior stand before a beast with blood dripping from its empty eye sockets. Before him the bear stands like a Titan to a man. So far away yet so impossibly big it can't be real.

"C'mon!" He screams with all his waning might, the heat and fumes becoming so unbearable a human man would've died many time over by now. Owing to his half-godliness Samuel survives, but only for moments longer if he doesn't act fast!

"Come get me! I'm right here!" Scrapping its' claws against the steel, sending a shower of sparks behind it Maim charges. Fifty feet turns to forty, then thirty. Twenty to ten when, to Samuel's horror, Maim slows down. The bear, while a creature possessed by raging spirits borne from Tartarus, is not an idiot. It could feel the heat in the air, feel the shifting catwalks precariously holding it up.

It guessed a foul machination and played _Samuel. _A trap within a trap. Now Samuel is stuck on the edge of a half collapsing catwalk mostly held up by cable attached to the ceiling. Oh, and he's also slowing being suffocated to death. Samuel's heart drops and a feeling he hasn't felt in a long time creeps up his spine.

Terror.

Sheer. Complete. Terror. He's had many close calls in the past, but to be so helpless in the face of certainty is a new one. This very well might be what kills him, and with his consciousness fading from the toxins in the air Samuel can't rely on quick action to save him now. Slowly he falls to a knee as the demon slowly, no _carefully _walks towards him. His vision begins to blur and he feels like the floor he kneels upon shifts beneath him. Just then, a thought breaks through the slurry that is his mind.

The catwalk is supported by wires attached to the ceiling, the primary support beneath is severely compromised and a multi-ton behemoth is putting a lot of pressure on already weak foundation. Samuel looks up and sees the cable pinned to the cavern ceiling, but he also sees they're _loose._

With his waning might, Samuel drags himself over to the railing and braces his back, readying himself for one hell of a ride. Taking his trusty rifle in hand Samuel aims up, up past the looming bear and to the pins supporting basically all of the catwalk he's seated upon. With utter surety, he pulls the trigger and his shot strikes true. The pin holding one of the cables is shot right in the loop, making a hole that sends the cable flying free.

Instantly the platform shifts, the metal groaning as it slowly begins twisting from the lopsided tension forces. Metal screams like a car crash as the twisted foundation supports fail under the intense forces, combining Maim's intense weight speeds the process of collapse almost instantly.

The other pin is ripped from the cavern walls and in that instant anything holding the platform level fails completely. Samuel grips the railing with an iron hold as the once level platform dips down into a ramp aiming straight into a vat of molten metal while the back end of the platform remains attached to sturdier foundations, giving Samuel's platform a sixty degree angle down. Maim roars in fury as its weight works against it. The beast slides straight down the platform, aiming right for the molten metal below.

What must be divine punishment or just a cruel, final prank, Maim lashes a claw out and clips Samuel's shoulder, ripping a large gash in it while also causing him to loose grip on his rifle and drop it. Whatever weariness he once had is gone. Samuel instantly lets go of the railing he's holding on to and slides down the platform, following his rifle as it slides down alongside Maim into the slag below.

Samuel bellows a shout of despair as he reaches for his gun in vain. His arm catches a loose bit of destroyed railing just at the last moment, dangling the raving Son of Eris as he watches his _baby _fall down into a vat of molten metal alongside his enemy.

The greatest victories require sacrifices. All Samuel can do is shed tears of grief and anger as the cost for his continued life is one of the few things he has left that means _anything _to him.


End file.
